I wanted to thank all who left a review for chapter 9. I thought long and hard about your comments. Here we go with chapter 10. Before you read this remember, truth is stranger than fiction. Not all of this is fiction … part of it is therapy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door to apartment #20 opened, a stunned Monica enters, with Phoebe's help.

"What happened? What's wrong with Monica?" Asked Rachel, concerned for her friend.

"We were over at Ross's and the phone rang. Judy called to let him know that something is very wrong with Jack. Ross decided to take a cab to their parent's house to talk to them while Monica stayed here. She has to work. Help me get her to the couch …"

At that moment Phoebe looked up at Rachel, staring deeply into her eyes. She continued …

"… and hope and pray that Ross doesn't blow his brains out with all he's had to deal with recently."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ross was as calm and collected as could be expected, yet he was still unprepared for what he was about to hear …

"Ross, your father and I just came back from the doctor."

Ross and Judy were alone, sipping coffee in the Gellar kitchen. Jack was feeling the effects of his illness and had since called it a night. Except for the kitchen the house was dark. She was alone. She had buried her parents years ago. She was alone and thought in retrospect as to how she had gotten to that moment in her life. She had played many parts during her lifetime: daughter, girlfriend, wife and mother. Instead of a relaxed, comfortable retirement she considered the new role that life had presented, that of caregiver.

"Is there something wrong? Dad looks much better since the surgery. Tell me, tell me what's going on!" he demanded.

"Yes Ross, your father's condition has improved but not up to the doctor's expectations."

Judy's voice was beginning to break up a bit, her voice becoming hoarse. She was tearing and he could tell she was going to cry …

"Based upon a recommendation from his cardiologist we went to see a specialist, a Hematologist. He ran some tests that confirmed, that confirmed …"

"Confirmed what?" He demanded.

"That confirmed that your father has blood cancer. He has what's called multiple myeloma. Your father will have to have chemotherapy in an attempt to put the cancer into remission. If the therapy works he will have to have dialysis for the rest of his life …"

Ross was curious. "Dialysis? What does kidney dialysis have to do with a blood cancer?"

Judy responded … "The chemotherapy, whether it works or not will destroy his kidney function. Your father will have to be hooked to a dialysis machine as much as four hours a day, 3 days a week."

Ross was shocked, as surprised as anyone could be. He knew things were bad but not this bad. Ross wasn't prepared for his mother's next words …

"Ross, … your fathers prognosis is not good. Before we left the clinic I was able to talk to the doctor without your father hearing. I asked him how long we could expect him to live. He told me …"

Tears. He had known her since his birth but he could not remember her ever being this despondent. She cried. He wanted to hold her and surround her, the woman who bore him, the woman who raised him, the woman who favored him over his beloved sister, the woman who loved him unconditionally.

"Mom, please, I know your upset but please tell me … what did the doctor say?"

"The doctor told me that the average life expectancy for this type of cancer is only three years …"

Ross wept.

Judy stared at her son, her flesh and blood. She had spent her whole life protecting him from hurt and from pain. She couldn't do it anymore. He was an adult. He and his sister would eventually be alone. He had to feel it. He had to feel the pain. He had to feel it so that he could learn how to cope with the loss. At that moment Judy actually realized something so very important to a woman, to a mother. She learned that you never stop being a mother. It doesn't end when they leave the nest or get married or divorced. It never ends. You never stop caring. You never stop hoping. You never stop teaching your children how to deal with adversity …

She had to teach her child how to say goodbye with dignity.

Ross looked at her with eyes full of sadness. He had spent the last few minutes thinking only about his loss. He had not considered hers. She was the one who fell in love with his father. She was the one who had made the lifetime commitment. She was the one who had bore him his two beloved children. Now she would get to watch him die. He thought about what she would most need …

"Mom, I love you. You are scared and devastated right now. I want you to know that I will try to be your strength when you are weak, your friend when you're alone. Please … please let me be what you need me to be. Please let me be your best friend. I will always be your son but you need more now. Please let me help …"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three weeks later …

"Monica, have you seen my hair straightener?"

"Sorry Rachel, the last time I saw it was right after it caused the fire at Phoebe's apartment. It was all black and melted."

"Ha, ha, very funny. I bought another one when I lived with Ross and now I can't find it. I haven't seen it for weeks! I have an important staff meeting tomorrow and I have to look my best. It's just a big show but I can't afford not to look the part."

"Phoebe, do you remember seeing it over at your place?"

"Sorry Rachel, I don't remember coming across it but that doesn't mean it's not there."

"Phoebe, can you go over with me to look for it?

"Sorry Rachel, but I'm already late for a massage client. Today's going to be a good day. I've got three clients in a row! By the way, if you do go over to our apartment you have a message on our answering machine. Apparently someone at work still doesn't know that you have moved. Here are the keys, gotta go."

… and like the wind Phoebe was gone.

Rachel looked at Monica and considered what to do next.

"Monica, could you please go over to Ross's and look for my straightener, please?"

"Why can't you go over and look, Rachel?"

"I think its best that I not show up at his door. I'm trying to give him his space."

Monica was enraged. The pent-up anger and frustration of the recent past was coming to the surface. She was sick and tired of her brother being hurt.

"Give him his space? What the hell are you talking about? He doesn't want his space and you know it! Stop lying to me and to yourself! You know the worst thing Rachel? You know the truth, you know how he feels and you know that you love him too but for some God forsaken reason you're too damn stubborn to face it!"

At that Monica stormed off into her room but not before firing one more shot at her friend.

"If you need your precious hair straightener so badly why don't you just go over there and get it yourself?"

… and at that she slammed her door, hard.

Taken aback, Rachel grabbed her coat and headed slowly for the door. She was angry at her roommate but knew that she was right.

Rachel had no desire to go over to his apartment and to possibly run into him. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation, but she needed her straightener …

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Quietly she inserted the key into the lock and opened the door to her memories. Her time there had been pleasant and peaceful, too much so. It had been an unfamiliar feeling to her. Her relationship with Ross had seen so many ups and downs. It had been so stormy since the breakup that she felt strange when things ran smoothly with him. It was an odd feeling. She looked at the floor and snickered at her peculiar behavior.

"To think that I feel more comfortable fighting with Ross than at peace with him."

With an air of urgency she began her search. She tried the usual places, the bathroom, the bureau. She finally hit pay dirt as she searched her old closet.

"Ah ha! Finally, my hair straightener!"

As she headed to the door Rachel remembered that Phoebe had told her about a message that a co-worker had left on the answering machine. Reluctantly Rachel grabbed a nearby pad and pen and sat before the machine. Something told her that she shouldn't … but she did, she pushed play. She would regret it.

BEEP

"Hey Ross, this is Melinda from the gym. Hey, I called you on Friday but you didn't call me back. Please call me when you get this. My number is 555-2465. Maybe we could go out this weekend … bye."

BEEP

"Ross, this is Peggy. We met at the Paleontology symposium last week. I absolutely loved talking to you about your work during lunch. Please give me a call at 555-9170.. Maybe we can get together sometime. Byeee."

At this point Rachael's stomach was turned into a knot. She wondered if listening to her message would be worth it …

BEEP

Mr. Gellar, this message is from Dr. Wells, your father's Nephrologist. Please call my office at 555-1004. I need to talk to you about your father's dialysis regiment, when he will need treatment, the risks of that treatment and his long-term prognosis. I look forward to your call …"

Rachel had done her best to wear a safe mask, to appear that she and everything about her were fine when in reality her world was imploding. She had been in a relationship with a man who truly loved her and put herself before him … yet she had left him. She had bolted at a time when he needed her most. He was losing a loved one … without her support. She had hurt the one she loved and all because of fear.

Ross had been successful at casting off his fear, choosing to live in the light. Rachel, on the other hand had chosen the dark and to live with fear as her constant companion. Her fear prevented her from truly living and from the closest thing to true happiness she had ever known.

BEEP

"Dr. Gellar, this is Tony from the Psychology department at NYU. I'm calling to let you know that I have to go out of town for a few days and will not be here for our next scheduled session. Please call my office in the next three days to reschedule."

The message left her speechless. She knew that their divorce and Jack's illness had hit him hard, she just didn't know how hard until now. Since his transformation he had had an air of confidence. He seemed to have it all together. Part of her wanted to run to his aid, to comfort him. She wondered … she couldn't.

BEEP

"Hey there Ross, this is Angie from the nightclub. I had a good time talking to you and your friend Joey the other night. When you get the chance why don't you give me a call at 555-8878. Maybe we can have dinner some time. Talk to you later …"

She had had enough. "No message is so important that I have to put myself through this!" She thought.

With clenched fists and anger behind her tears she left the apartment, making sure to slam it for good measure …

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had been such a fool. At her age she would not allow herself to fall for another's lie, another's deception. The acts of walking out on her wedding and out of her parent's home had served to allow her to live and to grow, to be independent. She had the life experiences to show for it. The problem though is that she was not being lied to by another. The deceit was insidious, it came from within.

As she lay on her bed staring up she thought about a life without fear, without anxiety. She had lied to all, including herself. "It's all about being able to trust." She thought, laughing at herself and her lie. She cried as she thought about the fallacy of being able to trust him, when in reality she could not trust herself.

Crying has a tendency to tire a body; she was very tired as she slowly went to sleep … as the door to the apartment opened.

Three exhausted bodies walked through the door …

"Shhh! Rachel might be asleep! Keep your voices down!" Whispered Monica, in her own special way.

Chandler quietly closed the door and put his coat down on the couch as Ross handed him a beer from the fridge.

"No thanks man. I had too much to drink at the restaurant. I've had it, I'm going to bed."

As he tried to make his exit a large hand grabbed his arm, pulling him gently onto the couch.

In a slight whisper he asked. "Chandler, have you asked her yet?"

"No, not yet, but I'm planning to very soon. With everything that's happening with you're your dad I didn't think it was the right time. Why do you ask, are you anxious to become brothers-in-law?"

"Yeah, that's it. I can't wait for my sister to be known as Monica Bing."

"I like the sound of that, actually." Replied Chandler.

"I thought you would. Good luck Chandler, I guess you'll know when the time is right."

"Goodnight Ross. Take care of yourself. Your mother and sister need you right now."

"Goodnight Chandler …" and at that he went to bed.

"You're drinking too much Ross!" She whispered as loud as she could.

"Thanks mom." He replied as he finished the first bottle and picked up the second. "Monica, this is my way of coping. Please believe me; I am not going to become an alcoholic."

"I know that you won't but drinking is no way to wash away the sadness, it only makes it worse."

"Having a drink numbs me … so that I can cope … let's just leave it at that."

From time-to-time their whispers would become loud. She was concerned for their privacy and for the possibility that they might wake her up. For a moment she wondered if she was even home. Monica walked to her room and slowly opened the door, ensuring that she was there. She was asleep. Quietly closing the door she returned her attention to Ross.

"She's asleep. Remember, we need to keep it down!"

Without saying a word Ross put down his beer and gestured for her to sit down next to him. She did and was immediately enveloped by her brother. For what seemed forever they shared their warmth and their pain.

"It's amazing, you know?"

"What's amazing, Ross?"

"This thing called a hug. It's amazing how just one embrace can wash away the distress of an entire day."

"That and the drinks that you've had."

"Hey, they help." He replied, jokingly, as he released his grip on her.

There they sat side-by-side talking and consoling each other. It was so good to get it all out, so good that Monica even let her brother put his feet on the coffee table.

"So how have you been lately, you know, since Rachel left?"

"Well, I'm seeing a psychologist and I drink too much, well, according to my sister."

"When did you start seeking help?"

"About two weeks ago. I thought I could cope with Rachel leaving me. Then, when dad got sick I literally fell down. I knew mom needed us to be strong, but I couldn't. I was literally falling apart inside. I decided I couldn't do it alone so I started seeing this guy at NYU. He's helped me to get up and keep from falling apart."

"So what have you been doing with yourself outside of work?"

"Well, I work out at the gym and Joey and I go out on the town every once in a while. Its fun watching him hit on every short skirt at the places we frequent."

"So what about you? How's your love life these days?"

"Monica, my life is a joke right now. I go to work, then go see dad, then I eat and then I sleep. That's it. I don't have either the time, energy or desire to date right now. It just wouldn't be fair to do so."

"What do you mean, fair? Are you thinking what I think your thinking? You have no reason to be fair to Rachel! She let you go and now you're free to do whatever you want. You owe her nothing!"

"Monica, what I meant to say is that it would not be fair to any woman I dated. My heart is just not into it right now. When you go out with a woman they begin to expect things from you like your time and affection. Right now I have nothing to give. I'm emotionally spent. It wouldn't be fair to them."

"So you haven't gone out since Rachel left?"

"No, I haven't. The closest thing to a date that I've had was a work-related lunch with a co-worker from NYU. We went to lunch and …" Ross sighed hard …

"What? What happened?" asked Monica.

"You just have to picture this, this woman, her name is Peggy, well, she is so incredibly gorgeous. We're sitting there in this quaint little café. We're just talking …"

"Then what happened?" asked Monica in anticipation.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. We just talked."

"What do you mean nothing? Please tell me you asked her out!"

"Monica, I'm sitting across the table from this gorgeous woman. This woman is a paleontological doctoral candidate. What the hell is she doing in paleontology? She could make millions as a model, she is that unbelievably beautiful! She's sitting there looking at me and hanging on every word that came out of my mouth.

"And what? Tell me Ross!"

"And all I could think about was Rachel."

Monica was furious. The stress of the day combined with seeing her brother hurt was sending her over-the-edge.

"What! I can't believe what I'm hearing! Face it Ross, Rachel doesn't want to be with you!"

She had lost control and had raised her voice. She now spent a moment trying to compose herself. She was livid, it wouldn't be easy …

"Listen Ross, I need you to promise me something … and you better keep your promise to me or I'll kill you! Sometime in the next week you are going to go on at least one date. You need to; no you WILL promise me that you will go out with a woman, on a date, and that you will try to have a good time! You do not have to sleep with her; you just need to promise me that you'll try to have a good time."

"Alright …" He said, before being interrupted.

"Wait, I'm not finished! When you go out on your date you need to promise me that you'll do your best to try to forget Rachel. You need to leave her memory at the door when you leave your apartment."

"Are you finished?" He asked.

"Ross, I've just begun. Your family needs you badly. Dad's dying on us. Mom and I need you around, with a clear head."

"Alright, I promise. In the next week I'll go out on a date with a woman and try to have a good time, but …"

"No buts Ross! Just do it!"

Ross looked down in retrospect. He remembered the good and the bad. He then looked up at her …

"I just … just can't believe what's happened this year, you know … to us, to Rachel and I. I just thought that this latest problem would make our relationship stronger."

His sister was getting even angrier at him. She was frustrated. She had tried to get through to him to no avail. He would soon prove her wrong …

"Ross, how many times have you and Rachel fought and broken up? When are you going to face the truth? You were never meant to be together! Every time you reconcile you end up getting hurt again! Remember all the pain that you experience every time that she casts you off?"

"Monica, you missed the point."

"What point Ross? What point could you possibly be trying to make?"

"My point is that after all the breakups, after all the pain, we still love each other. The love I feel for her is so much stronger now then during the good times when I thought she was perfect. The bad times have shown me that she's far from perfect. Rachel is only human. She's human with weaknesses and frailties and problems. And I have loved and hated her so much. I'm sure she could say the same about me. And, my dear sister, we still love each other, even after all that's happened. That is my point …"

Monica stood there silently, her argument totally deflated. She could not even begin to think of a response to his oratory.

"I think I should go home now." He said as he raised his frame from the couch. He stood and swayed like a mighty oak. As he started for the door it was obvious that he would need help getting home.

"Here, let me help you get to your apartment."

"Monica, I'm a grown man. I don't need help walking home."

"Ross, you've had too much to drink. Take my hand and walk with me. I know you can walk home by yourself but do it for me, OK?"

"Anything for you …"

… and at that they left the apartment.

Little did they know, they were not alone. Sitting there on the floor, behind her door she sat. Her knees were raised to her chest. She sat there in the dark. She felt comfortable in the dark. Fear and the dark were her friends. She sat there with her head tilted to her right with an ear to the door, trying to make out the conversation occurring in the next room. She was fortunate; her lack of visual acuity only improved her hearing. While she could not hear everything being said, she had heard enough.

Her eyes misted up. The tears then poured down her cheeks as her face became soaked with them. Her body quivered as she clenched both fists and her teeth and jumped up off the floor. She was angry and somebody or something was going to pay. She turned on the light and was momentarily blinded by it. She sat on her bed and looked at the mirror on her bureau. What she saw disgusted her. She spied a spoiled child, wanting something so badly yet unwilling to work for it; unwilling to risk for it. Her anger rose as she scanned the room, looking for a weapon. Then she saw it, that damned obsession. She reached for it and cursed its very existence. She tried in vain to break it in two. Failing to do so she turned her head and looked back into the mirror at the girl. Instinctively she drew back the weapon and threw the hair straightener with all her might, killing her in a thousand shards of silvered glass.

If he wasn't so tired, chandler would have awoken …

She sat on her bed, at a crossroad of her life. Before her lay an almost infinite number of possibilities, but one particular path held her attention. She wanted that path, that future, but her fear held her back.

And at that moment a memory came to her, causing her to smile. It happened during their good times, after he had returned from China. He had left his girlfriend to be with her. She was at a similar crossroads at that moment, working as a waitress in a dead-end job, hoping for so much more. He put his hand in hers, comforting her. He tried to explain that it would not be easy. There would be much rejection and possibly some failures but he would always be there to cushion her fall. Then he said it, a corny little proverb that he had heard while on his trip. He thought it so appropriate …

"Rachel, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single footstep."

She had to find a way, a way to take that first step. It had to be simple and easy. And then it came to her. She just needed to find that person, the person to talk to …

Authors note: All of the Phone numbers used in this chapter are made up and not real phone numbers (I just had to say that).