AN: Alright, writers. I've been strapped down to reality for the past April, May, Jun...8 months. So I think it's about time I owe you a chapter. So if it starts to suck about halfway through don't be concerned. I'm just that bad. I wrote the beginning in June then stopped and just recently wrote the last part without much of an idea as to where I was taking it.
I also would like to note what I wrote is completely unrealistic. I'd go on to explain why exactly it's so unrealistic but that'll give away the chapter. I wanted to write something off the wall and different, without thinking about the setting. Then I got too far into it and didn't want it to go to waste.
So here ya go. Enjoy this corner of my institution.
I've lost track of time, the universe is crafting into one image as I study the woman I gave my heart to years ago and never really got back. I should be on a plane back to New York right now, yet, Mother Nature has other plans.
The thunder shakes the ground as the lightning moves closer. Cars hunk to running pedestrians outside as their window blades move back and forth rapidly working hard to clear the view for their owner. Puddles grow as the sewer drains began to over flow. Many locals are trying to get out of the city before the effect of the hurricane crashing South hits the city. But with this storm it doesn't look like anyone is going anywhere.
Another strike followed by a loud bang causes a rush of people to hurry inside. I quickly open the door I'm standing next to and usher everyone inside: mothers with small children, overworked business men and retired elderly.
It all came suddenly, the sun was out not too long ago. But then the wind picked up and the rain started falling shortly after; by then it was just a matter of time.
I continue to search the crowd for the woman who disappeared to take a phone call. My eyes move back and forth, through vehicles and around luggage carts; trying to find the girl I lost track of when the last lightning struck. But I see no one.
Glancing back inside, I wonder if she passed through without me realizing it? She could have easily blended in with the crowd, she's wearing a dark plaid flannel, a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a-
"Chandler!"
I feel a hand grip my forearm and my attention spins.
"Chandler, all the flights are canceled. No one is flying in or out tonight!" She yells over the pouring rain. "My mom said it's suppose to hit in a couple hours and suggests we head back to my place 'til it passes."
She appears soaked, her waterproof makeup sticking strong to her eyelashes. Her clothes are no longer dry as her breathing heaves and she continues to hold my arm.
My eyes scan the scene around me, if we wait another hour getting out of here will be both impossible and unsafe. Locking eyes with Monica I can only imagine what she is thinking. Her place is just thirty minutes outside of the city and about an hour from the ocean. It's nowhere near 100% safe, but it's better than being trapped in the airport for the next couple of days until they clear the run-way.
Nodding without directly looking at her, I see the traffic before us. It's useless calling in a chauffeur and just about every taxi cab is already taken.
Reaching down, I grip her hand and sling my carry-on over my shoulder.
Then we run.
Just across the street and four blocks up is a hotel that will provide their service on short notice. They are probably getting a lot of business with no planes taking off tonight, hopefully we'll be able to get a couple rooms.
With her hand tight in mine, we dash across the busy road. Our socks are soaked and our jeans are no longer comfortable but that doesn't slow our pace. It helps that I ran track in high school or I'd probably be fighting for an inhaler right about now.
"Here!" I yell, pulling her aside so we're now standing in a covered staircase.
She's fighting for her breath as we hug the building; clearing the way for traffic.
Mon was never the sporty type.
"Where are we going?" She finally questions as her eyelashes splash water down her face every time she blinks. Her crystal blue eyes fill with wonder and concern, standing there. I can feel her eyes over mine while I contemplate whether or not I'm heading in the right direction.
Looking at the sewer drain boil over, I begin questioning my tactic. I'm not exactly from this world as I try to rethink of what street I saw the hotel. It wasn't even an hour ago that I was starring at a Motel 6 from my taxi cab.
"Chandler." She tugs my arm when I don't answer; like a little kid trying to get their parents attention.
Shaking my head, confused, I look over at the street sign. Madison. The hotel was just a few streets North from Madison. "Just a few more blocks." I state, simply.
"A few more blocks to where?" She sounds both irritated and stressed. The perfect combination for a situation like this. She must have remembered that I don't do well when she's pissed at me because in the next second her cold fingers touch my cheek, forcing me to look at her. "Hey," The sympathy in her voice is delicate as she slides her fingers through my wet hair. "Talk to me."
Not a single part of our bodies are dry, and it's getting more uncomfortable by the second. The wind picks up, causing her whole body to shiver. We're gonna catch pneumonia out here if we don't get into something dry soon.
"I saw a hotel a couple blocks away," I pause "North. And if we just get there we can get out of these wet clothes, into some dry ones and get a decent nights sleep." I look out over the crowd running in and out of buildings, trying to get home "We'll wait it out there and hopefully I'll get on the next flight available."
Monica remains silent as her hand drops from my cheek. Her body suddenly feels distant although her feet never move. We're quiet, as we stand there a few more seconds "If that's what you want."
Glancing down at our intertwined fingers, I shrug "I don't think it matters what I want, anymore." I state rather coldly, but don't anticipate an answer.
Honestly, I'd rather be stranded in a crappy Motel 6 with Monica for a few days than be in my lonely New York apartment.
"Ready?" Without releasing my grip on her hand, I take a step back into the rain and continue my way down the street.
Pushing past the rush of the crowd, water splashes, soaking everything up to our elbows. My wet clothing clings tightly to all my creases, the moose in my hair is now sticking to my forehead; no longer holding anything in place. Water squishes out from between my toes each time my foot lands.
People rush by, not worried about anyone but themselves. Their only concern is to get out of the storm and back to their family.
As we zigzag to a motel that is appearing in the distance, I think about home and my students. Their little bug eyes starring back at mine at eight'o'clock on a Monday morning. One little yawn causing a string of them before I can finally start my lesson about something that will hopefully mold their minds throughout their schooling.
I think about James and his play dough creations during free time; the imagination one little boy discovers. I think about Eli and how smart he is as he sees everything from a different angle. And I think about Emily, and her health daily. Her strength and inspiration she has against the world. But most of the time I think about us; Monica and I, and if we will ever see eye to eye again.
I want to move past what happened years ago, but I'm afraid that will always be something that resurfaces. After all, it's what tore us apart.
It's a part of us now.
Slowly, I begin to see the other side of the tunnel; but it took years to walk through. I just hope it doesn't take another 5 years to reach the end of this tragedy. I wonder if other parents have this same agony when losing a baby? I imagine we aren't the only ones that can't get through it together.
Every time the subject resurfaces, we end up arguing about the situation. How I treated it was not my intention and the way it ended was not what Monica initiated.
Hopefully now, with the situation at hand, ends will meet and we can finish this together.
Tugging her hand lightly, I force Monica to run with the crowd across a loud intersection.
Coming up to the motel, we hurry inside and out of the chaos. Our hands break apart as our breathing remains heavy while we try to reorganize ourselves. We stand in the doorway, not able to push ourselves past everyone waiting; hoping the rain will ease up. The lobby is crowded with concerned families watching the storm erupt. Their eyes fixated on the swirling rain hitting the outside with a powerful gust of wind. The rain falls down, blows up, and bounces off anything in its path before reaching the ground.
Wriggling my toes, water gushes out the sides and I cringe uncomfortably. "I'm gonna go see about a couple rooms." I inform Monica before making my way over to the check-in counter.
The lady standing on the other side of the counter gives me the hand and I wait silently as she takes a phone call.
"Can I help you, Sir?"
Looking over I find another employee standing down the counter with a welcoming smile.
"Yes, that'll be great." Sliding over, I stand before her "I'd like to rent 2 rooms please." I explain, digging my wet wallet out of my back pocket.
"Alright let's see what we've got." She types a few things into her computer. "It looks like we are just about booked." She clicks a few more things before carefully reading the documents on her computer "We have 1 single available as of right now. Because of all the canceled flights we've been having a lot of bookings today." She looks back at me "Would you like to reserve it? I'll be sure to let you know the minute another room opens up."
Fishing out my ID and Credit Card I nod not having many other options to go with at the moment. "Yeah, I'll book it." Sliding two different forms of plastic across the counter I thank her. "Does it have 2 beds?" I question
"I'm sorry, Sir. But I can call for someone to bring up a cot if you'd like." She answers, inputting my information into the system.
"That'll be great."
A moment later she is handing back my cards and a receipt "You'll be in room 223, Mr. Bing. You need to dial 9 to get out of the room," She writes this down on a notepad "And the WiFi password is just motel6kennedydr. All lowercase." Handing me the slip with a smile I thank her again "I hope you enjoy your stay, let me know if you need anything else."
"Thanks." I say a final time before turning around.
The lobby has gathered the attention of a few more residence of the building as I search for Monica among the crowd.
"Mon," She turns and faces me "You okay?" I ask after seeing her expression. She nods silently and I assume if it was important she'd tell me when she's ready. It's something I've learned after being with her for so many years. "I got us a room."
"Just one?" She questions
"A, yeah," I motion around us "They're kind of booked at the moment."
"Okay," She takes a step around from the people that are surrounding us "I just want to get out of these wet clothes."
We walk towards the elevator side by side with not much to say. I don't want this night to end with us on sharp terms. I don't want their to be tension or regret when I leave.
With a ding the doors open and we step inside. This may be the longest elevator ride of my life as we ride up until the machine frees us onto our floor.
Walking down the narrow hallway with Monica following close behind I find our room and slide the key into the compartment before quickly removing it. The door opens slowly and I allow Monica to walk in first.
The air feels like ice when you're wet and the unfamiliar smell comes off a little musty. I was never a big fan of hotels. The idea of sleeping in someone elses bed, stepping where hairy toes have stepped...call me paranoid but I'm not fond of sleeping anywhere but my place. I was always that little kid who'd call his parents in the middle of the night to come pick him up from a sleep over.
"One bed?"
Monica's voice startles me a little bit as she gathers my attention once again. She begins observing the room as I shut the door behind us.
"Yeah, I asked them to bring up a cot when they get a chance."
It's then that she turns and looks at me for the first time since I got the room.
"Chandler," Her voice is gentle, her eyes soft as she closes the gap between us "You don't need to do that." Her whisper is the only warm thing in the room. "There is plenty of space on the bed for both of us." She motions back to the pee stained, lumpy mattress, and honestly I think I'd prefer a cot. Looking back at me she sighs with a chuckle.
I cringe at her reaction before looking down at my appearance. My legs are slightly spread as my wet clothes begin to dry uncomfortably and my arms hang loosely at the side of my body. I try hard not to move while I begin to air dry. This could take days.
"Chandler, stop being a bouncer for the door."
Breaking eye contact, I exhale sharply before cracking a smile.
"Com'n." She takes my hand and pulls me away from the doorway. "You need to relax." She tells me "You'll be back home and with your little monsters in no time."
Our hands separate "That's not what I'm worried about." Her back is towards me as she starts to unbutton her flannel.
"No?" She stops what she is doing and turns to face me.
I drop my head and move to the opposite side of the room. "I just...I don't know anymore." I reply hesitantly.
"Know what?" She questions
"I don't know what I want, Mon." My hands fiddle with the zipper on my jacket as I release the tension from my body.
Silence grows between us and I immediately regret bringing anything up. I should have hid it better, I should have just put on smile and acted like nothing was bothering me.
"Well what makes you happy?" She asks softly
Spinning around I finally face her. Her shirt is now completely unbuttoned, her eyes saddened, as her fingers mess with a loose thread on the comforter. I can't pretend anymore, I can't act like everything is fine; like I don't regret life. I want to be honestly and hopefully of what's to come. I want to enjoy my work life as well as my home life. I need to know she feels the same way, or my coming here was a complete sham.
Taking a deep breath I answer her faintly "You do."
Her eyes never leave mine, she doesn't run away and she's not yelling. I'd say we are off to a good start.
"Look," I take a step towards her "I can't..." pausing I choose my words carefully "I can't go back to New York hiding these feelings anymore." I take another step "The way I took things was sinful." I admit "I never wanted to hurt you and the way I reacted to the situation was..." I take one more step causing the gap between us to disappear. I exhale with a sigh and look her in the eyes "Monica Geller, I was an ass. I am an ass." I correct
We chuckle and her cold fingers brush back my hair, her eyes follow her movements as she traces my features before meeting my eyes once again. "Yeah. But you're my ass." She finishes
I can't hold back the grin that appears as I lean in to brush my lips against hers. With the slightest touch she pulls back.
"Chandler, you're freezing."
She tugs at my jacket "Let's get out of these wet clothes and into some dry ones."
Before I even had the chance to shred anything, there's a knock at the door.
Walking over to see who it could be, I open the door and I'm greeted by a folded up cot.
"Good evening Sir, I've got your cot here." He directs "Would you be needing any extra pillows or blankets tonight to make your stay a little more comfortable?"
Glancing back I look at Monica collapsed on the bed. "Actually, we won't be needing this cot after all. I really appreciate all your help today." Fishing out my wallet I pull out a flimsy Lincoln and hand it over. "Here's for your troubles. Thank you."
Pulling my foot back from the door I allow it to close.
As I make my way back to the bed I find Monica starring back up at me as she slowly sits back into a seated position.
Her eyes carry bags under them from lack of sleep, the shade of purple beneath the crystal blue is visible without any cover up. Her lashes remain thick with makeup lining over them, and I just realized I know too much about makeup for a guy.
Ever so slowly, I pull off the heavy fabric from my shoulders as I stand before Monica, never breaking eye contact.
Her eyes focus on her fingertips slowly sliding down my chest before stopping at my belt.
I reluctantly grab the hem of her shirt and bring it up slightly before stopping.
Monica's eyes meet mine and she brings her arms up, allowing me to continue.
The rain is hard against the window. The soft lighting coming from a single lamp in the far corner capturing a shadow on my face.
Tossing Monica's flannel off to the side I reach down and run the back of my hand over her cheek. Monica reaches up to rest her hand on the back of mine as she relaxes her head against my gentle touch. Her eyelids fall heavy as she exhales peacefully, all her worries fading away.
Suddenly her eyes no longer look exhausted, her features appear more bright as the room begins to heat up.
"I still love you." I whisper, not concerned about tomorrow or a week from today, or even next year. "God, do I love you." My only thought is right now.
AN: Don't worry! I'm not going to skip anything! I'll write the next part in Monica's POV...unless you want me to move on with my life I can just leave this here and drop the story. Either way is fine with me :)
P.S. This was shit to write. And it turned out that way too. I wrote the beginning in June, the ending a few days ago and the middle minutes ago. I copied and pasted every part at least once and had multiple endings.
But hopefully you don't notice that :l