Mockingbird
Chapter 3: June 2005
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Thanks so much for the reviews! You all rock :)
I'm going to try to update this one more time this coming week, since I'm going out of town next weekend (and running my second half marathon! I hope to run a full one by spring :)). We shall see, but I hope to have one more part posted by then. :)
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Chandler lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, too wrapped up in his thoughts to sleep. Sighing, he glanced at Monica's empty side of the bed, and then at the clock beside the bed. It was after midnight, and he knew very well he needed to be up in just over five hours in order to be get ready and make his commute into the city for work.
Most nights, wait, no, that was a lie, some nights, he didn't mind being home alone. Some nights, when he was working on a big campaign and would work right up until the time he went to sleep, he didn't mind being home alone. Not that he liked it, but he didn't mind it as much. But nights, weeks, like this one, when there was no big campaign to work on, yet he still found himself home alone, he felt…stifled.
The quietness of the suburbs, of the empty house, was absolutely stifling. While the city, which he had grown accustomed to for over a decade, was always awake, always noisy, seemingly unaware that three o'clock in the morning was meant to be deafeningly silent, the suburbs knew that three in the morning was quiet time. And it was silent outside. No traffic. No yelling. No car alarms.
He missed Manhattan. Well, living in Manhattan, since he still worked there. He missed living there, close to everyone he loved, and close to at least a half a dozen Chinese places that would deliver after midnight.
Mostly, he missed living so close to everyone he loved. He missed Joey and Rachel being across the hall, and Ross across the street. He missed Phoebe being within walking distance. He missed Monica being there.
He missed Monica being there.
He missed their relationship, which, while far from perfect, had been good, and happy, and healthy, and had worked. He missed her. He missed them.
The day at the hospital, after the twins were born, had been what felt like the beginning of the end for them. It had been the happiest moment, the proudest moment of his life, when he got to hold them, ooh and aah over them, in complete disbelief over the two tiny bundles of people in his arms that were somehow his. Hers. Theirs.
And they had named them. God, they had even named them. Not officially, of course, not legally, but they had names picked out.
And then, from ecstatic to ten steps below morose in less than thirty seconds. They had left Erica alone with the babies, to say goodbye, and they had gone to make phone calls to friends and family. And then, their adoption lawyer came out.
Erica had changed her mind. Changed her mind. She didn't have to give a reason. She didn't want to see them. She just…changed her mind. Just like that. And nothing had been signed yet. Nothing was official.
The lawyer said that if they wanted to sue over any medical costs they had paid for, they could, but there was next to no chance of a judge giving them the babies, so there was no real reason to pursue it. You can't make someone give their kids up for adoption. Erica was young, but she wasn't some irresponsible drug addict who would be a danger to her children. And mothers change their minds all the time, apparently.
It hurt. Like nothing else he had ever experienced, worse than being told there was a good possibility of never having children of their own, it hurt. That feeling made every broken heart he had ever experienced feel like nothing but a slight pinprick.
And he cried. They cried.
And then they went home from the hospital the same way they had come there: with no baby.
And it hurt. It hurt moving into their new house without the baby they thought they would be moving in with. For days, for weeks, it hurt. And somewhere, in those weeks, Monica had shut everyone out. She had wanted to be a mother for so long, so long, and it was nothing but unfair that she couldn't have that, because she deserved it. She didin't deserve to not be able to have kids, she didn't deserve to have this happen….
He didn't deserve to have this happen. No one deserved this feeling.
And so, Monica shut out the world. Monica shut out Chandler. She wouldn't talk about it, wouldn't even begin to talk about trying again for adoption, or even still trying for the small chance of having one on their own. She threw herself into work, something that was not hard seeing as being a head chef called for long hours to begin with.
Weeks of shutting everyone out turned into months of bickering over nothing, and the bickering led to even more fighting over trivial things, until Chandler gave up and decided to let her shut him out completely, because just existing hurt a tiny bit less than all of the fighting had. Months eventually turned into a year, and still, nothing had changed. Nothing had gotten better. Monica was still shutting everyone out, but Chandler was refusing to let go of hope for them, even though hanging onto hope was killing him a bit more everyday.
But he loved her. He loved her and missed her and wanted His Monica back. Not this Monica, this shell of a person he no longer recognized.
And so, he would spend most nights alone. He would analyze every moment of the past year, and then have to bring himself out of that miserable state by remembering all of the good times for the years leading up to then. He would watch mind-numbing television shows, and order take-out from restaurants that failed to live up to Manhattan's take-our food.
Mostly, he would sit alone and hurt, and wonder when it was going to start getting better. Because it had to get better.
It had to get better.
