AN: Ok chaps, last chapter! Thanks for your reviews for this and Have You Ever, they make me smile :-) Remember I still don't own the characters. Dedicated to Sarah W, who won't read it, but still, its her 18th birthday, I figure she deserves it ;-) Please leave a review, this chapter is a lot less confusing than the previous ones!
"The gun is for Pete. I know its not strictly necessary, but if we can get rid of him, it'll make our lives a hell of a lot easier later. And I want the pleasure of putting a bullet in the bastard's head," Michael said.
"What's that?" Monica asked, pointing to a black cylindrical tube.
"A powerful sleeping draught. It's a gas, so if we put it in the air conditioning unit it'll spread all over the building within minutes. Everyone from the lowliest slave to Pete Becker himself will be sleeping like babies."
"Where the hell did you get all this?" Chandler asked, impressed.
"And why?" Monica added. She was surprised to be married to a guy who was prepared to arm himself with things like this.
"You'd be surprised at what you can find in New York City. One of the technicians used to be a hit man, knows all about this kind off stuff," he said nonchalantly. Chandler and Monica looked shocked. "And I got it because I thought maybe one day I'd do what Chandler did, get you out of there."
"What about the others like me? Can we get them out too?" Monica asked.
"No Mon. It wouldn't be safe for them anyway, and it'd take too long," Michael said gently.
"How long do we have anyway?" Chandler asked.
"Once I set this off," Michael said, pointing to the sleeping draught, "maybe 10 minutes for it to work, the I don't know, it depends how diluted it gets. I want us out of here as quickly as possible though."
"Then what?" Monica asked.
"Then we get as far away from here as possible before we even think about anything further into the future."
"When are we gonna do it?" Chandler asked. He wanted to do it straight away. He had more to lose if they waited longer and then for some reason didn't get a chance.
Michael checked his watch. "We have about 42 of our 48 hours left. You two get some sleep, proper sleep, then when we're all rested we'll do it. Tomorrow," Michael decided.
"What time is it now?" Monica asked.
"About eleven thirty at night. Now Mon, sleep!" he commanded, "You too Chandler."
"Are you gonna keep watch?" Monica asked.
"No, we'll be perfectly safe tonight," Michael said confidently. "Pete wouldn't dream of doing anything. He'll expect us to stay quiet for a couple of days, then for me and Mon to get the hell out of here the easy way. As far as he's concerned, Chandler's half dead already and couldn't do anything on his own anyway."
"I got Monica out on my own," Chandler muttered defensively.
"I know, but I think Pete's also relying on me to stop you doing anything else, for Monica's sake. Pete knows how much I love her." Michael glanced at Monica who was smiling sleepily. She took his hand and squeezed it, before rolling onto her side to sleep again.
The following morning, Michael woke early as he was used to doing. He didn't have to work, but he scribbled a note to Chandler and Monica and crept out of the room. Monica didn't wake up until around noon, but when she did, she heard Chandler and Michael talking excitedly about their plans. When he noticed that she was awake, Michael kissed Monica's cheek affectionately. Chandler looked on jealously. He felt slightly resentful; he hadn't done all that and got himself in very serious danger just so Monica could live happily ever after with her husband.
All day, the three of them were on edge. Michael didn't want to discuss the details all over again, but he was obviously brooding about them. Chandler was excited about getting out of The Dark, but he was irrationally afraid Michael would give up on the plan and go along with Pete's plan. Monica was nervous and spent most of the day asking Michael to tell her things about their life together before all this, which gave both of them some comfort, but infuriated Chandler.
At around six thirty pm, just as many of the technicians were going for their dinner break, Michael handed face masks to Chandler and Monica and put one on himself, so the three of them wouldn't be affected by the drug along with everyone else. They had soon grown used to Michael producing such random, useful things and now simply did as he told them, since Michael obviously knew was he was doing. It was Chandler who climbed up into the ventilation shaft in Michael's room and placed the tube. Holding his breath nervously, he set it off. After about ten minutes, Michael hurried to the cafeteria to check what was happening, and laughed aloud when he saw all the sleeping staff. He ran back to Chandler and Monica and made them follow him. Michael had wanted to kill Pete on his own, but Chandler had fiercely insisted on at least being there, and Monica, still shaken from her ordeal, didn't want to be left alone.
"Come on, quickly," Michael said, leading the way to Pete's office. He held the gun, while Chandler held Monica's hand. The three of them entered Pete's office cautiously, Michael first. For no reason that the others could see, he stopped short halfway through the door and Chandler nearly crashed into him.
"Run, get her out," Michael hissed.
Pete was awake. The drug hadn't worked. The plan hadn't worked. They were ruined. Chandler grabbed Monica's arm just below her elbow and trued to back out of the door. To his dismay, Monica grabbed Michael's shirt, trying to get him to come too. Michael shook her off and pulled out the gun. Pete must have been expecting this, because before Michael could do anything, there was the bang of a shot being fired, and Michael was hit in the leg from a gun hidden below the desk. Monica screamed. Chandler tried to pull her behind him and drag her away but she clung stubbornly to Michael.
"Come ON!" Chandler shouted, prizing her fingers off Michael's shirt. Monica wrenched herself free of Chandler's grip. She looked at Pete. He was watching her and Chandler, not sure what to expect from them. Chandler never knew why Pete did nothing as he watched Monica dark forward and grab Michael's gun. Michael mumbled for her to just run away, but she ignored him.
"You won't do it," Pete said confidently. "I gave you everything you wanted. Its not my fault you ruined it for yourself." Chandler was shaking, but Monica stood firm and calm.
"I will do it," she said quietly And she fired. As soon as she did, Pete pulled his own gun out from under his desk and attempted to retaliate. Chandler held his breath, closed his eyes and covered his ears. Pete's yell of agony as he was hit in the shoulder penetrated Chandler's hands into his ears, but he heard no matching cry of pain from Monica. Three more shots were fired, but each time, it was Pete who screamed.
"Holy shit Mon!" Michael exclaimed. Chandler risked opening his eyes and uncovering his ears. Pete looked dead. Monica was still holding the gun and aiming it at him, but her hand was shaking now. Michael was on the floor, clutching his leg, but he looked at Monica in awe. "I never knew you could shoot like that!"
"I killed him?" she asked quietly. None of them wanted to move close enough to check.
"I think so," Michael said uncertainly.
"Chandler, go see if he's breathing," Monica whispered.
"Me? Why me?" Chandler asked, scared.
"Just do it," Michael snapped.
"You know what, lets not bother. He probably is dead."
"You really wanna leave here not knowing 100% that he is? You wanna spend the rest of your life afraid he might not be?" Michael said.
"I'll do it," Monica volunteered. She edged slightly closer to Pete. Seeing her so scared and vulnerable, yet doing it anyway, Chandler found the courage to follow. They held hands like small children as they inched towards him. Chandler took hold of one limp wrist and felt for a pulse, while Monica held her trembling hand in front of Pete's face to see if he was breathing.
"He's dead," Monica said, relief overwhelming her. Chandler dropped Pete's hand and wrapped his arms around Monica.
"He's dead," he agreed happily. They turned back to Michael, as if to ask 'now what?' Michael sighed and leaned heavily against the doorframe.
"Can you walk?" Monica asked.
"I don't know, help me up." Chandler and Monica crouched on either side of him and heaved Michael to his feet. He groaned in pain, but wouldn't allow them to let him sink back to the floor.
"I don't think you've lost too much blood. You were lucky," Monica said.
"We all were," Michael agreed. Monica smiled at him. Chandler stared blankly at a spot on the wall, wanting to ignore the tenderness between them.
With the others helping Michael as much as possible, they mad painfully slow progress towards the front door. Michael opened it with his swipe card, and they stood in the doorway for a moment, blinking in the bright sunshine and breathing in the dust and smoke of the city as eagerly as if it were clean country air.
They were free.
* * * * *
A month later, Chandler, Monica and Michael had moved into an apartment together in Los Angeles. Michael had told them that they would be safe wherever they went, since Pete was dead and none of the other staff at The Dark would care enough to bother them, but Chandler had said he would feel much safer away from New York. So they'd moved thousands of miles to the other side of the country. Michael's leg had been treated and as Monica had said, he'd been lucky enough not to have suffered any major damage from the gun shot wound.
Six months after they got free, Monica was working as a sous chef at a small family restaurant, Chandler was working for a large multi-national corporation, data processing as he used to, but he found it was much more enjoyable when you had something like The Dark to compare it to. Michael had found a management job in a different office, and the sum of all their salaries had enabled them to move to a three bedroom apartment. In their old two bedroom apartment, Chandler and Michael had shared a room with 2 twin beds, but the arrangement hadn't suited any of them. In their new apartment, they were all, on the surface at least, much happier. Monica sensed the rivalry between the two men, however hard they tried to hide it. She felt sorry for Chandler, because most of the time, it was Michael who 'won', leaving Chandler feeling like a schoolboy who was trying to compete with a grown man. Michael was the least affected by his time at The Dark, and the most keen to move on and put it behind them.
One Friday night, they had ordered pizza, rented a horror movie, and were sitting around in their living room drinking and relaxing. Monica was sat in between Michael and Chandler on the couch. When the killer appeared on screen brandishing a knife, the guys jumped violently and Monica screamed and hid her face in Michael's shoulder. When the scene was over, Monica sat back in the middle again without giving it another thought. Chandler sat stiffly, brooding about their living arrangement. He had no idea how long it was going to stay like this and he felt ready to strike against it, against Michael, even against Monica.
"I think I'm gonna go to bed," Chandler announced as soon as the end credits started to roll.
"Night Chandler," Monica said, kissing his cheek affectionately.
"Night," Michael said as Chandler went into his bedroom. "You wanna watch another movie?" he asked Monica. "There's probably a porno on one of the cable channels."
It was a sign of how drunk she was that Monica only giggled. "No, no, no porn."
"Well then looks like its either the movie we just watched again, or see if there's something on TV, cause we didn't rent anymore movies."
"You just wanna channel hop and find the porn!" Monica teased. Michael laughed.
"What do you want from me, I've had no sex in a long time!" he tried to sound like he was joking, but Monica wasn't sure he was. She blushed. Michael flicked through the channels for a while, before deciding there was nothing worth watching on. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said eventually, without looking at her. "I miss my wife, that's all."
"I'm not going anywhere," Monica said, also not looking up as she spoke.
"I know you're not. Its just… I knew things would be different, especially with Chandler living with us. But we're like friends Mon, not like husband and wife. I miss that."
"I'm sorry. But I have to get to know you all over again, and its hard and its such a weird situation we're in…" Monica trailed off.
"I know, and I'm not trying to rush you or anything, I'm just, sexually frustrated I guess," he said, with a smile.
"I think I'm gonna go to bed," Monica said, ending the conversation. Michael sighed and nodded.
"Sweet dreams," he told her. Michael stood up and followed her to her bedroom door. Monica turned and looked at him questioningly, but before she could speak, Michael kissed her softly. As his lips brushed hers, he waited for any sign of resistance, but Monica closed her eyes and kissed him back. It was so long since she had felt anything like this. Tentatively, his hands went around her waist and drew her closer. Monica let herself be held like that for a little while, but when Michael's hands slid up to gently cup her breasts through her top, she pushed him away and stepped back. Without a word and without looking at him, she went into her bedroom. Michael didn't even attempt to follow, he just went back to the couch to flick through the channels again.
Monica lay on her bed fully clothed, staring up at the ceiling trying to think. She knew she could trust Michael. He loved her, and whenever she was with him, she felt a sense that she had loved him too. But she felt the same way about Chandler, who also loved her. She didn't miss his jealous glances as Michael touched her hand while they were all sitting together or when she smiled at Michael first when she came into a room. Monica sighed. Michael wasn't the only one who wanted things to go back to normal, but she wasn't sure what normal was.
The next morning, Monica lingered in her bedroom for as long as possible, wanting to avoid Michael. When she had to come out to get ready for work, she marched towards the bathroom, but found Chandler was in there. Shouting at him to hurry up so she could shower, Monica noticed Michael watching her from the couch. Sighing loudly, she moved to the kitchen to make herself some toast. Michael followed her, making her jump as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"Don't," she said irritably.
"Sorry, I just…"
"I know, I'm sorry," she said, smoothing her forehead in a nervous gesture. "Look, I'm confused I guess, just give me some time to think about what I want, ok?"
"Sure, Mon, whatever you want," he said, kissing her just below her ear.
"Doing that is not giving me time," Monica said, but she couldn't help smiling.
"Sorry," he said, stepping away from her and holding his hands up in a 'sorry' gesture. Monica smiled at him, before turning back to her breakfast, obviously assuming they were done talking about it.
"Bathrooms free," Chandler called, exiting it with just a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Great, thanks," Michael said, rushing in, laughing at Monica's annoyed expression before he shut the door. Monica sighed.
"What's up with you?" Chandler asked.
"Why does everything have to be so damn complicated? Why is nothing simple for me?" she asked, looking at Chandler as though he had all the answers.
"Wow, that's a pretty deep question for this time in the morning! And there was me thinking you were just pissed cause Michael got in the bathroom before you," Chandler said. Monica smiled. In the last six months, he had become more like the Chandler she had dreamed about. He was still scarred from his experience at The Dark, but the time away from it had taught him to be more open and happier.
"Sorry," she said, smiling slightly.
"You ok?" Chandler asked. Resisting the automatic urge to smile, nod and assure him she was fine, Monica merely shrugged. "You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really."
"You want a 'feel better' hug?" Monica smiled and nodded. With Chandler's arms around her, Monica felt safe. She remembered how he had risked everything to get her out of the Dream Chamber and away from The Dark. Monica felt like she could stay there in his embrace forever, but she was conscious that Chandler might begin to wonder what was wrong if she didn't let go soon. Reluctantly she stepped out of his arms. As she smiled gratefully at him, Monica thought she saw Chandler looking at her the exact same way Michael had the night before.
"All yours Mon," Michael called cheerfully, as he came out of the bathroom. Monica met Chandler's gaze for a moment, then turned and went into the bathroom.
Monica needed to talk to someone. She needed an impartial, concerned girlfriend who could tell her what to do. But there was no one at work who she could trust enough to tell them everything, and without knowing everything, they wouldn't have been able to even begin to understand how complicated everything was. And apart from the people at work, the only people Monica knew were Michael and Chandler, and talking to either of them about it was not an option.
When Monica got home she found Chandler and Michael in the living room arguing. She sighed. She was tired and stressed and just wanted to flop on the couch and relax, possibly even with one or both guys taking care of her.
"Well, she was fine when I went to bed, and when I saw her this morning she was upset about something." Chandler shouted. Monica sighed and blushed when she realised they were fighting about her.
"Maybe she had a bad dream," Michael suggested with a raised eyebrow.
"Don't even joke about it!" Chandler warned.
"Ok, fine, but I don't see why you're blaming me, just cause Mon was in a mood."
"Because you're the only person she'd seen!"
"So? I suppose it couldn't possibly just be that she's not a morning person?" Michael said. Chandler made a disbelieving noise. "I didn't do anything ok? What do you take me for? I love her for God's sake!"
"She doesn't love you," Chandler argued.
"She kissed me!" Michael crowed.
"She kissed you or you kissed her?"
"Is that any of your business?"
"I care about her!"
"So do I!"
"She was upset, I'm just worried about Monica here!"
"Well don't be ok?!" Monica said, announcing her presence for the first time. Both Chandler and Michael turned to look at her, startled. "What the hell are you doing, talking about me behind my back?"
"Mon, I was just-" Chandler started to say.
"He started it," Michael accused childishly.
"Would you two listen to yourselves? You're fighting over me as if I were a favourite toy and you were both about 5 years old!" Monica shouted.
"Sorry Mon," Chandler said.
"Yeah, sorry," Michael said.
Monica ignored them both and went past them into her bedroom. Once the door was closed, she threw herself onto the bed and hit the pillow in frustration. She wasn't trying to cause trouble between Chandler and Michael, but if she was honest, she should have seen it coming. Right from the first day in The Dark there had been a tension between the two men, and she knew that, through no fault of her own, she was the cause. Sighing she sat up again. It wasn't her fault they were both in love with her, or claimed to be. Why did she feel so guilty about Chandler knowing she and Michael had kissed? They were still married, regardless of the fact that she remembered nothing of their life together before all this. She and Chandler were divorced. She was perfectly within her rights to kiss her husband, but when she thought about Chandler, kissing Michael seemed wrong for some reason. Chandler and Michael glared at one another when Monica had gone, then they went into their bedrooms as well.
A few hours later, Chandler heard a knock on his bedroom door. He wasn't sure whether or not to answer, in case it was Michael wanting to continue their argument or something, but in the end he did, and was relieved to see it was Monica standing there, wearing pj pants and a vest top.
"Can I come in?" she asked. She didn't sound or look angry. Chandler nodded.
"Mon, I'm sorry."
"Shhh, I'm not mad about it anymore," she assured him. "I just wanted to explain what happened between me and Michael."
"Oh," was all Chandler said. He sat down on the edge of his bed and watched Monica pace back and forth in front of him, wringing her hands as she spoke.
"Michael kissed me," she said, "but I kissed him back. He is my husband," she excused herself.
"I know," Chandler said. "Do you love him?"
Monica was thrown by the question, but a minute later she answered. "I don't know."
"Do you love me?" he whispered. There was a long silence. Chandler took this to mean she didn't and was trying to think of a tactful way to break it to him.
"I think so," she said at last. Chandler looked at her properly and met her eyes. She seemed scared by her admission, but he was only happy and stupidly hopeful.
"I love you, you know. So much," he told her. Monica finally stopped pacing.
"I know," she said.
Monica walked slowly towards him. Chandler watched her silently. He knew she was confused and being torn in two different directions, and he wanted to let her decide what, if anything, happened. As she approached him, Chandler opened his arms and let her walk into them. They just hugged. After a while, Monica pulled back. Tugging gently on Chandler's arms, she got him to stand up too.
"You can kiss me now," she whispered. So he did. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands played in her dark hair. Monica sank into the kiss, it felt so much better than kissing Michael had, and guilt over that fact disappeared within seconds as Chandler's tongue moved into her mouth. Chandler didn't ever want to stop kissing her, but Monica eventually pushed him gently away. Afraid of the rejection he was convinced was inevitable, Chandler tried not to look at her. Smiling, Monica lifted his face to look at her. She kissed his nose affectionately. Seeing her smiling at him like that, Chandler began to think maybe she wasn't going to reject him after all. Monica slid her top over her head, still looking at Chandler.
"You don't have to do this Mon," Chandler said. He tried not to look at her breasts, but he couldn't help himself. She hadn't stopped smiling, despite his staring.
"Neither do you," she said. Her hands were on the waistband of her pj pants, but she looked to Chandler as if for permission to remove them.
"If you're sure," he said softly. Monica nodded.
"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't." Chandler raised an eyebrow. When he had asked her, she had only said she thought she loved him, not for sure.
"What about Michael?"
"What about him?"
"As you just said, he's still your husband."
"Can't we forget that for tonight?"
"I just don't want you to change your mind tomorrow," he explained.
"I won't," Monica promised.
Chandler waited an agonizing moment while he tried to decide if it was worth the risk. In the end, he couldn't resist her. He was stupid to ever think he stood a chance. He put his hands over Monica's and helped her slide her pj pants down. She only wore a thong underneath.
"I think you're wearing too many clothes," Monica told him. Chandler pulled his sweat pants and t-shirt off as quickly as he could, so he was standing in only boxers. Monica nervously put her hand down the front of his boxers. Grinning, he kissed her and pulled her down onto the bed with him.
In the morning, Monica woke up feeling secure and happy. Feeling Chandler's arms around her, and his naked body against hers made her smile at the memory of the night before. Their sex had been slow, gentle and loving, and afterwards, they just lay their together stroking one another's satisfied bodies, reunited after an absence that was too long for both of them. She turned over in Chandler's arms, and the movement woke him up. Chandler couldn't imagine any better way to wake up than with Monica's beaming face just inches from his own.
"Morning beautiful," he said, kissing her lightly.
"Hi," she smiled back at him.
"You wanna think about getting up?"
"No, I want to think about having sex with you again."
"Just think about it? Okay," Chandler joked, lying back on the pillow and closing his eyes.
"Well, no," Monica giggled. She pushed the covers down so they were both exposed from the waist upwards, and began kissing his chest, letting her breasts press against his side. Chandler grinned, and when she moved up to his face for a kiss, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both over so he was lying on top of her.
Michael was surprised when he woke up and found no evidence that either Chandler or Monica had got up yet. He was pretty sure they were both supposed to be working, and he had overslept himself. Thinking they must have done the same thing, he knocked on Monica's bedroom door to wake her up.
"Mon! Mon wake up, its nearly 8 o'clock," he called. There was no answer. Rolling his eyes at her ability to go from chronic insomniac to being able to sleep through anything, Michael pushed her door open. He frowned in surprise when he saw Monica wasn't in her room, and her bed hadn't been slept in. Michael decided he might as well wake Chandler up before worrying about Monica, Chandler might know where she was, and if not, he could help look.
Inside Chandler's bedroom, neither of them had been disturbed by Michael banging on Monica's door, but when he knocked on Chandler door, shouting for him to wake up, both Chandler and Monica froze. Hearing her husband's voice while she gave Chandler a blow job horrified her. She looked at Chandler who felt his heart sink when he saw her expression. He was convinced Michael's voice had made her realise what she had done, what she was still doing, and what a huge mistake it all was.
"Chandler!" Michael shouted again. Monica and Chandler hastily began to sort themselves out.
"What?" Chandler called back, hoping that some form of acknowledgement from him would prevent Michael entering the room.
"Thank God, do you know where Monica is? I'm worried about her."
Chandler looked at Monica trying not to laugh at the strange awfulness of the situation. Monica didn't share his amusement. Chandler tried desperately to think of a suitable answer.
"I'm sure she's fine," he said.
"Chandler, she probably went off last night, her bed hasn't been slept in, do you really want to think about her wandering round LA on her own all night?" Michael said impatiently.
Chandler ummed and ahhed for a few seconds while Monica looked panicky. Michael quickly got frustrated and opened the door.
"Look, Chandler-" he began. Then he saw Monica. She stared at him, not knowing what to say. "Monica," he said in a strangled voice. "Obviously you're perfectly fine. I'll just leave you two to it."
"Michael, wait!" Monica said, but he ignored her and slammed the door behind him. "Oh God Chandler," Monica said, turning to him, "What the hell do we do now?"
"Its ok, Mon," he reassured her.
"How is it?" Chandler shrugged. Monica made an exasperated noise and got out of bed. She quickly started to get dressed. Chandler sat still and watched her, earning himself a glare from her. Without saying another word to Chandler, she exited the bedroom. "Michael, please talk to me," she said when Michael looked up from his breakfast as she came in.
"I have nothing to say."
"Well I do."
"I don't want to hear it Mon. Look, I'm not angry with you for sleeping him while you're married to me. I wouldn't even class it as cheating on me. I know you don't automatically feel the same way as you did before you went into The Dark, I know that Monica," Michael said.
"So why are you angry, or whatever you are?"
"Because I was stupid enough to allow myself to think maybe you could love me again."
"I'm sorry Michael," Monica said honestly.
"Do you love Chandler?"
"I think so." She gave him the same answer she had given Chandler the night before.
"If he wasn't here, do you think maybe you might have loved me?" Michael asked. Monica smiled gently at him.
"Whatever I say, its only going to hurt you," she said. Michael nodded sadly.
"I'm gonna move out as soon as I can. You guys will probably want to move too, to somewhere smaller; you won't need three bedrooms."
"You don't have to move out."
"Yes, I do. I can't watch my wife falling in love with someone she loved long before she ever loved me."
"I'm so sorry. I know this whole thing, The Dark and everything afterwards, has been hard on you too."
"Yeah," he sighed. "It'd have been easier if I just went along with Pete and not tried to play the hero," he said bitterly. Monica kissed his cheek tenderly.
"You did the right thing. Chandler and I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did. I'm so sorry you lost out in the end." Michael nodded. He hugged her hard, clinging on to her as if that could stop her slipping away from him.
"I have to go to work," he said eventually. Monica nodded and stepped away from him. He kissed her forehead, waved half heartedly, gathered his things and left the apartment. Monica began to absentmindedly clear away the remains of Michael's breakfast. Hearing the front door close, Chandler poked his head out of the bedroom.
"Is it safe to come out?" he asked. Monica nodded. Chandler emerged wearing sweats. He crossed the room and put his arms around Monica, who leaned against him.
"He was so sad," she said. "He wasn't mad, not at me anyway. He was just sad." Chandler lifted her face up towards him and kissed her.
"He'll be ok Mon."
"You think so?"
"Of course he will. He knew things wouldn't be the same as before you went to The Dark, he knew that from that start."
"Knowing something and believing it are two different things." Chandler was quiet. He let her rest in his arms for as long as she wanted to. "We should go to work too," she said eventually, stepping away from him. Chandler pulled her back towards him.
"We're already late, why don't we both just call in sick?" he suggested.
"And spend the day in bed, I suppose?" she snapped, pushing him away angrily.
"If you insist," Chandler said, trying to kiss her, but she wouldn't let him.
"I'm not in the mood."
"Obviously."
"Just leave me alone, ok?"
"We didn't even get to finish," he mumbled grumpily. Monica glared at him.
"Michael saved your life," she reminded him.
"Oh, so that means I can never sleep with you, ever again, in case his feelings get hurt?" Chandler said sarcastically.
"Oh, don't be stupid."
"You promised you wouldn't change your mind," Chandler said sounding hurt. Monica sighed and her expression softened.
"Chandler, I haven't changed my mind about you. I'm just upset about hurting Michael, because he doesn't deserve it. But I still want to be with you," she told him.
"Really?" Chandler asked, a smile beginning to form.
"You wanna know if I'm sure?" Monica asked, smiling. She loved towards him again and kissed him. Her words sent a shiver down Chandler's spine; they sounded strangely familiar. "But for now, I'm going to work. And so are you." Chandler sighed, but his disappointment was mostly for show. He kissed her once more before releasing her.
* * * * *
Michael moved out a month later, into a small studio apartment. Although he and Chandler were hardly friends, Monica met up with him for coffee or lunch as often as she could. She felt so guilty about how things had turned out, but Michael always put a brave face on it and told her not to worry about him. The day she got the divorce papers in the mail Monica cried, and could not explain to Chandler why she was so upset. The divorce was friendly enough, but it just seemed such a shame that it had to happen; it wasn't Michael's fault that The Dark had made her forget their life together. She would never forget what he had done for her, but in the time since she and Chandler had been together, she knew she couldn't make things work with Michael now; she wanted Chandler, she needed Chandler. He seemed to complete some part of her that no one else could, because he was special.
Chandler and Monica got married in May, on the anniversary of what Michael told them had been their wedding the first time round. It was just a small ceremony at a registry office, with Michael as best man (somewhat reluctantly), and a woman from Monica's work as the other witness. They went to London for their honeymoon, hoping to revive some of the memories they had both lost.
* * * * *
Monica had a dream.
She was making love to Chandler. They were both moaning as he moved inside her, and his hands stroked her breasts while she clung to him and pushed herself up to meet his demanding thrusts. Chandler kissed her passionately. She opened her eyes as the kiss ended, and her world flickered, and it was Michael on top of her. It was Michael's seed that burst into her like poison. Michael slumped on top of her carelessly, his head resting on her shoulder, face turned away from her. Monica felt another flicker. The man still resting inside her was suddenly hard again, and he rammed himself into her. Monica screamed. It was Pete who turned to face her, Pete who was hurting her, Pete who was tearing her deep insider, Pete who planted hard biting kisses on her unwilling mouth. She struggled, but the more she tried to free herself, the heavier Pete seemed to become, until she could hardly breath because his weight pressed down so hard on her chest. Not just her chest, her throat was tight. His hands were closing around her neck. Pete grunted as he thrust into her one last time, harder than ever. Having got all the perverse pleasure out of her that he could, he completed the task of strangling her.
THE END
