December 1968

…I have no control. I don't like having no control. The only thing I can do is keep our baby safely growing inside of me until it is time for him to be born. I'm doing all I can to give you that much. I refuse to let you down…

Chandler furrowed his brow again, just as he had the first half-dozen times he'd read Monica's latest letter.

What in the hell was wrong? Something was, he could feel it. Her words were desperate. It looked as though she'd written them quickly, like she'd wanted to get them on the paper before she lost her nerve to write them at all.

He ran one hand along the base of his skull and closed his eyes, straining his head back to loosen his stiff neck. What sleep he'd been able to grab lately came in the form of awkward positions - against the side of a fox hole, on top of a crate while sitting on the ground and sometimes lying directly on the uneven Earth itself. It felt like a million years since he'd been where he was now, in his tent on a cot in his temporary home.

The engineers were close, so close, to completing the necessary work to begin the construction of a makeshift airstrip that had the capacity to land large, heavy freight planes loaded with supplies.

Securing enough land around the perimeter had been daunting for his comrades and the Army Corps had a small window to get the work done while the infantry held back the enemy.

It was almost a blessing that he'd had so much work and so much distraction recently. He hadn't heard from Monica in a month. It was really only a week or so longer than usual, but it was almost too long. He lived on her letters as his fuel to survive and he was running on fumes.

He glanced down at her words again.

I refuse to let you down.

How could she possibly let him down? She'd done nothing but give him the world, promise him the moon, since they'd finally come clean with their feelings for one another. What could she possibly think could happen that he would be upset about?

He fumbled in his breast pocket and pulled out her picture again. A slow smile crept across his face, as it did every time he looked at her photograph. She looked so beautiful - young, healthy, happy - so full of life. He sighed. This was what he'd initially wanted to avoid - causing her any worry or pain because of him. Instead here she was, pregnant with his baby - worried about him and worrying about the baby.

"Dammit," he whispered, slowly lying down on his back on the cot and holding her picture up in the dim light. He studied her face for a short while until his tired eyes turned blurry and he fell into a restless sleep…

Chandler clutched her to him, as he had a 100 times before, feeling her naked body against him as they lay together in his bed in Apartment 19. Slowly he ran his fingertips up her arm and over her shoulders, gently tugging on her, urging her to turn to him. She sighed, turned to face him and smiled that brilliant smile of hers.

"Are you OK?" he whispered.

"Yes," she said, still smiling, her eyes searching his.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, not convinced, as his fingers lightly traced her jawline.

"Yes," she said softly, reaching up to bury her hand in his hair and pulling his mouth to hers. They kissed long, slow and deep, like they did ever so briefly the first time they'd kissed. Not with the fast, hard, unbridled passion when they'd been together before. This was languid, just soft enough, as though they had all the time in the world. And as it always was, it was as amazing as he dreamed it would be.

He smiled against her mouth as his left hand roamed lower, searching for the bump that housed their baby. He gently ran his hand over her round, smooth stomach.

She put her hand over his and they smiled into each other's eyes for a moment. Then she scooted out of his embrace.

"I have to go," she whispered, still smiling, but her eyes were beginning to water. Suddenly she wasn't naked anymore, rather she was standing by the bed in a simple, pale blue dress.

He jerked to a sitting position, covers over his naked waist, his heart suddenly thundering in his ears.

"Go? Where?" he asked, fear creeping into his voice. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go," she repeated, tears in her eyes. "The baby needs me."

"The baby? What?" he asked, wanting to move but somehow frozen in place. He watched her as she started to somehow…fade away. "But…the baby's not here yet. Where are you going?! Monica?!"

"I love you," she whispered, tears in her voice as her form faded further from his sight.

"Monica, no!" he said, reaching out to the empty room, feeling as though his heart was bleeding out around him. "Don't leave! Monica!"

Chandler tossed around on the cot, kicking to free himself from whatever imaginary force was trying to hold him in place. He was gasping for air, his eyes trying to force themselves open to free his mind from the nightmare he had fallen asleep into. He was kicking hard and in his sleep his hand found the metal side of the cot. Gripping it he pulled hard and flipped his body right out of the tough green canvas and onto the dirt floor below with a hard thud.

"Monica!" he gasped as he scrambled to his elbows and knees in the dark, eyes now wide open.

His breathing was ragged, shaky, as he frantically attempted to take in his familiar surroundings, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. His heart was pounding.

Chandler took a few more deep, ragged, audible breaths in an attempt to move past the hellish dream and reestablish an even heart rate. He closed his eyes. God, he could actually feel his arms around her, then just as clearly he could see her walking, no…fading away.

His whole body shuddered as he shook his head, opening his eyes just enough to glance at her latest letter sitting on the crate next to his cot. He folded it and put it back in his nap sack, where he kept almost all of her letters. He patted his shirt pocket and frowned.

Where was her photo?

"Fuck! No, no, no…" he whispered fiercely, fumbling around in the dim light, still on his hands and knees on the ground. His heart was speeding up again. He ran his hands over the top of the cot, over the crate, almost knocking the barely lit oil lamp off the top of it. After a couple of panicked moment his fingers felt the familiar texture of the matte paper in the shadows far under his cot. He grabbed the picture, falling back on his knees as he pulled it out from the dirt under him. He quickly brushed it off and checked for tears or scratches. Thankfully, he found none.

Chandler slapped the photo against his chest and hung his head, feeling like he was losing his mind. Of course it had just fallen off him in his sleep. He hadn't lost it. He hadn't lost it and he hadn't lost her. He hadn't lost her. He wasn't going to lose her. She was fine. The baby was fine. Everything back home was fine.

"She's fine, man," he said quietly to himself, trying to convince himself. "Don't sweat it. Don't sweat it…"

After a moment or two his breathing evened out and he tucked the photo safely back in his pocket, right next to that first letter she wrote to him. Going back to sleep now, though, was a lost cause.

He heaved himself into a standing position and took a deep breath, straightening his arms, palms down, trying to pull himself together. He exited the tent, hoping to find some solitude and peace in the moonlight hanging over the endless cluster of trees surrounding their makeshift base.

Chandler looked to his left and saw a familiar figure standing alone not 50 paces from him. A thin trail of smoke was dancing in the reflection of the lunar light next to Joey as he looked heavenward.

"No sleeping tonight?" Chandler said quietly, as he came to stand by his friend.

"Hey," Joey said, glancing at him, then he nodded to the moon.

"Think they'll make it up there?"

Chandler's eyes followed his. The ongoing NASA Apollo missions that were attempting to orbit the moon were a good distraction on Armed Forces Radio for the soldiers every once in a while. There was another mission planned for the end of the month.

"Dunno," Chandler said, with a little shrug, not having given it a whole lot of thought.

"If they finally get their shit together we'll never hear the end of it from the Air Force guys," Joey said with a small smile, putting his cigarette to his lips then quickly pulling it away again.

Chandler smirked then nodded as he raised his eyebrows at Joey, his eyes shifting from his friend's profile to the cigarette in his hands.

"When did you start smoking?" he said, with a nod toward the smoke rising next to him.

"Right now," he said, smirking, lifting his hand as he looked at Chandler. "This is my first. Want one? Looks like you need it…"

"Hell, yes," he said, as Joey offered the brand new pack of cigs to him. Chandler dug one out then dug out his lighter in his pants pocket, lighting up the cig and taking a deep drag. He let it out slowly.

"Why can't you sleep?" Joey asked looking to the sky again. He was confident he knew the answer. What kept any of them up at night in the middle of a war?

Chandler took another drag before answering. He wasn't about to go into details about his dream, a wonderful dream he'd had countless times since he'd found out she was pregnant, but had never once ended in the horrible way it just had. Yet, he thought he might just be able to talk to Joey about what he thought may have triggered it.

"I…I got a letter from Monica," he said pensively, making his friend worriedly whip his head around to face him. Then Joey grinned.

"Finally came to her senses and dumped you, did she?" he said, earning an elbow poke in the ribs from Chandler.

"No," he said, with a little grin, appreciating Joey's attempt at humor. "But, something's…off. I mean, she's more…worried…she's usually pretty strong, but she just…something's bothering her."

Joey looked at him like he was crazy.

"Love of her life's In Country and she's carrying his baby?" Joey said in a matter-of-fact voice. "You're wondering why she's stressed?"

Chandler sighed as he shuffled his feet.

"I know, but…"

"Chandler, she's pregnant," Joey said, taking a small, almost non-drag on his own cigarette. "I've got a ton of sisters and they've all been pregnant. It ain't pretty. Look, I know she's your Wonder Woman but she's probably really emotional right now."

Chandler looked at Joey, somewhat dumbfounded but very appreciative. The man had a point. That was probably all it was - and he was overreacting.

"Yeah," he said with a nod, flicking the end of his cigarette to the ground, and taking his frustration over not being with her right then out on the butt, grinding it under his boot. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Believe me, I'm right," Joey nodded, then turned and offered Chandler the rest of his cig. "These are disgusting, by the way."

"Nah, you're just not doing it right," Chandler said, taking it from him. Joey grinned, then his face turned serious again.

"We've got a job to do," he said quietly, clapping Chandler on the shoulder. "Gotta focus on that. Day-by-day, remember?"

Chandler swallowed and nodded in understanding. He gave Joey a little grin as the smoke from his exhale drifted back across the moonlight in the sky.

NOTE: "In Dreams," Roy Orbison, 1963

So, the nod to the NASA Apollo missions to the moon is a direct result of a visit with the fam to the Kennedy Space Center in Florida last month. It was very inspirational on many levels, tbh. One of the astronauts was quoted as saying (spoiler alter!) after the successful mission to orbit the moon at the end of December, someone thanked him for "Saving 1968." I thought that was interesting.

Now…to your reviews. I am completely, totally in awe of all of you. I cannot thank you enough. When I started this little endeavor I truly hoped people would want to follow along. I knew it was gonna be a challenge. But to be up over that 500 mark has completely blown my mind. Thank you, a thousand times over! I will never be able to say it enough to do all of you justice.

BTW - the calendar looks very decent for writing the next couple weeks - pray it stays that way and we can all know how this is gonna play out! ;)