OKAY... HERE'S PART FIVE. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THE PEOPLE WHO LEFT REVIEWS FOR THE PREVIOUS PARTS... PLEASE VOICE YOUR OPINIONS ON THIS CHAPTER AS WELL! ALSO, THANK YOU TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO KEPT HASSLING ME TO GET IT WRITTEN, LOL. :-) AND A REMINDER ONCE MORE: THIS IS A JOINT EFFORT AND WOULD PROBABLY BE COMPLETE AND UTTER CRAP WERE IT NOT FOR THE BRILLIANT EDITORIAL SKILLS AND STORYLINE SUGGESTIONS OF NATCHOU!! :-)

"Chandler." Kathy's voice cut through his thoughts and he jerked his attention back to her. She was staring at him, and in her face he could see concern, irritation, and confusion. He stared at her, his mind awhirl.

"Mr. Bing, it's your turn," the priest informed him.

Chandler nodded and swallowed. He licked his lips, trying in vain to find moisture in his mouth, which had suddenly gone bone-dry. He let go of Kathy's hand and reached into his pocket for the vows he had written. As he did so, he felt the cool pearls of the necklace brush against his hand, and he almost jerked his hand back as though he'd been bitten. He tried to smile as he unfolded the piece of paper, forcing himself not to look past Kathy's face and into Monica's, knowing that if he did he would lose his cool. He'd promised to marry Kathy, and he wasn't about to let pre-wedding jitters stop him; and yet, he no longer fully believed that it was simply nerves. Remembrances of his relationship with Monica were slowly trickling back into his mind, and although he was confused, the haze was beginning to evaporate.

He cleared his throat nervously as he looked at the small piece of paper in front of him, which was shaking due to his trembling hands. The words blurred and he blinked, trying to clear his vision. He quickly scanned the words, and he realized that he barely even remembered writing them. They suddenly seemed foreign, as foreign as the feelings he had declared to have for Kathy. While the feelings themselves weren't entirely unknown, he was gradually realizing that while he had felt them, he hadn't felt them for the woman who stood before him. His thoughts were once again interrupted by a whisper from his supposed bride-to-be.

"What's the matter?" While her voice was gentle, her eyes were demanding and he searched desperately for something to say. "Chandler, answer me." He could hear people in the pews whispering, and he realized that he must look like a first-rate moron, standing on the altar struck dumb. He could feel two hundred pairs of eyes burning into him, and while he still hadn't looked into the sea of faces, one of those pairs seemed to be doing most of the damage. He eventually managed to shake his head and force a small smile in an attempt to reassure her. He once again looked down at the leaflet of paper before him and took a deep breath.

"Kathy," he began, his voice shaking. "I've learned a lot in the past few months, and-- uh..." He licked his lips again, determined to fight whatever it was that was holding him back. "I learned how great it felt to love someone and to be loved back." As he progressed through the vow, his apprehension eased slightly, although the feeling that something was amiss lingered. He tried to ignore it as he continued to read, and Kathy seemed to relax somewhat as the moments passed.

Monica sat, motionless and stone-faced, listening to Chandler's words and wishing with all her heart that they were directed at her. She wondered what he would have said during their wedding, as they'd been planning on writing their own vows as well. She silently ran over the vow she'd written to him, the words she'd memorized and had been silently reciting like a mantra since she'd finished writing them. She realized that she hadn't rehearsed them to herself since the day the world got turned upside down, and yet she hadn't forgotten a word. "I guess that's what happens when you really and truly mean them," she thought. She felt her breathing pick up slightly and her eyes sting, and she forced herself to focus on Chandler's speech and not on the dull ache that had filled her heart, knowing that if she allowed herself the luxury of actually experiencing her emotions, she would never make it through the ceremony. She blinked rapidly and focused on Chandler's wedding.

Chandler finished reading his vow and looked up from the paper as he folded it and returned it to his pocket. He took a deep breath, thankful that he'd managed to make it all the way through the reading. He noted that Kathy's expression seemed to be somewhat hesitant, but he forced a smile in an attempt to set her mind at rest. He could feel his palms sweating as Kathy once again took hold of his hand, and he glanced at the minister, who had taken over.

"Do you, Kathy, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love and honor him for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" Kathy smiled slightly.

"I do." Chandler forced himself to smile back at her, but he felt his body freeze when the priest addressed him.

"Chandler, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and comfort for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as Chandler looked into her eyes and was instantly confused by the loving and reassuring look that he saw in them. How could someone love him that much? How could he be stupid enough to doubt marrying her? He took a deep breath to steady himself. He loved Kathy. She loved him. They'd come this far. This was it. He owed it to her to marry her, and he knew he'd have to be crazy to ruin a good thing. He smiled down at her, and in the split second before he answered the priest, he snuck a glance past her and at Monica, who seemed to be holding her breath.

"I can't." The collective gasp of the audience reflected his own astonishment as the words left his mouth. He was dimly aware of Kathy letting go of his hands as she leaned away from him slightly. He'd fully intended on saying "I do," but something had happened between his mind and his mouth, and it was as though some other power had taken over. He blinked as Kathy stared at him, shocked and hurt, her eyes flashing.

"Chandler?" Her voice demonstrated the same emotions as her eyes, and he felt the guilt wash over him as the realization of what he'd done hit him.

"Oh, God, Kathy, I'm so sorry." She took a step away from him. Until that moment, she'd hoped that it had been a mistake, and that he would say "I do" anyway, but his apology had quickly erased such a possibility. She stared at him for a moment and then dropped her bouquet and ran from the altar and toward the back of the church. Chandler momentarily stared after and then ran after her, knowing that after this he owed her an explanation, at the very least, and he hoped that she'd give him the chance to at least apologize.

Monica watched them go, shocked and dumbfounded. She momentarily wondered if Chandler's sudden reluctance had anything to do with her, but she pushed the thought aside and joined in the buzzing conversation of her group of friends.




"Hi." Monica looked up and was both surprised and suddenly nervous to see Chandler staring down at her, a strange expression on his face.

"Hi," she replied softly. She took a sip of the champagne that she held and gazed across at the small pond behind the church. She shifted slightly, the cold stone of the church steps making her uncomfortable. "You okay?" she asked after a moment. He shrugged and nodded toward her glass. She smiled slightly and handed it to him, watching absently as he took a sip. He made a move to return the glass to her, but she shook her head with a sympathetic smile. "I think you need it more than I do." He smiled slightly, thanking her and joining her on the church steps. "Where is everyone?" Monica asked slowly. She knew that all of the guests were at the reception hall, with the exception of quite a few of Kathy's guests; the true question dealt with Kathy's whereabouts and what had happened after she'd fled from the altar. After a moment's hesitation, Chandler sighed.

"My family? Reception hall. Kathy's family? Probably sticking pins into little Chandler-voodoo dolls. As for Kathy herself..." His voice trailed off as he took another sip of the champagne, a guilty expression taking over his face. "Her parents' house." Monica nodded silently. They sat in wordlessly for a few moments before Monica sighed quietly.

"I'm sorry, Chandler."

"Don't be."

"But I am. I know how excited you were and..." She paused as she searched for the right words. True, she hadn't wanted him to get married, and the sudden turn of events had filled her with a tiny trace of hope, but she wanted him to be happy all the same. Unsure of what to say, she allowed her unfinished sentence to hang in the air between them as they both stared out at the lake.

Chandler gazed absently over the water that was comfortingly calm as the formerly sunny sky gave way to the soft haze of dusk. He nervously turned the crystal glass around in his fingers as he inattentively waved away one of the mosquitoes that had emerged in the late afternoon. His mind was awhirl and he was a mess. Then again, the term "mess" didn't even begin to describe it. While he was slowly coming to realize what had happened, he was completely lost as to where to begin unraveling it. He heaved a sigh once more as he drained the glass and sat it down on the step beside him. He suddenly noted that Monica was shivering slightly and he quickly shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, smiling down at her as she grinned up at him gratefully. After another quiet moment, Monica cleared her throat nervously.

"You know, if you want or need to talk about anything..." She paused. "Just... I'm here. Willing to listen. God knows you've done enough to try to help me lately... so... y'know. Feel free to unload." Her uneasiness lessened slightly when he smiled appreciatively.

"Thanks." She nodded as they fell into silence once again.

Chandler absentmindedly removed the bow tie from around his neck and ran it through his hands as he stared out at the water, wondering how and where to begin. He knew that Monica had to have been living in hell the past few weeks, and while he was still somewhat hazy on the details of what was going on, there was absolutely no doubt that he remembered them being together. He remembered little things that couldn't just be figments of his imagination: him blurting out that he loved her while she was wearing a turkey on her head, him proposing to her because she was angry with him, him moving in and freaking out that she'd get upset that he'd moved things without her permission. He found himself smiling at the memories, and was suddenly struck dumb with fear that he'd somehow ruined it. How on earth could he have forgotten? With every passing moment, he remembered more and more, and with every remembrance he loved her more and more. As he snuck a sideways glance at her profile, he once again hated himself for causing the pain that was written across her face, in spite of her best efforts to hide it.

Monica shyly pulled Chandler's tuxedo jacket tighter around her and tried to ignore the familiar Chandler scent that wafted up from its fabric. Not knowing what to say and not wanting to upset him further, she remained silent, waiting for him to break the ice. While her curiosity was almost killing her, she was in no way ready to start prying into his business, and she was even less willing to allow herself to believe that his inability to say "I do" had anything to do with her. Memories of their relationship once again tried to creep into her mind, but she battled them fiercely, as it seemed she'd been doing for far too long.

"Monica?" Chandler voice startled her and she turned to face him, slightly bewildered. He momentarily argued with himself over what to say, but a brief glance into her clear blue eyes told him that she'd suffered enough and that it was no time to beat around the bush. He took a deep breath. "I remember."

Monica felt her heart lurch as she gazed at him and she swallowed the lump that had immediately appeared in her throat. She refused to believe that it meant what she so desperately wanted it to mean. She remembered when she had thought the song had sparked his memory, and she had been so crushed when her hopes had been shot down that she'd silently sworn to herself not to allow herself to hope that much again.

"You remember," she repeated carefully, trying to determine what he could possibly be talking about. It obviously had something to do with Kathy and his failed wedding, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what memory had to do with it.

He nodded.

"Remember what?" she asked hesitantly. He stared at her.

"Us." She felt her heart skip once again and once again she disregarded the feeling of hope that had managed to creep back into her mind, despite her strongest attempts to fight it.

"Us?" He sighed. She obviously wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"And why should she?" he reasoned silently. "I broke her heart." He was silent for another moment while he looked at her sadly before speaking. "God, Mon, I'm so sorry. I can't even begin to imagine what I've put you through, and... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't even know how to apologize to you... I'm sorry for hurting you... I don't know what happened. I feel... I don't even know how I feel, but it's almost like I just... I don't know, woke up or something." He paused. "God, that sounds so crappy. But honestly, that's how it feels. You know how you wake up from a really vivid dream and it takes a moment to get your wits about you?" She nodded silently. "Well, that's how I feel now. Like that. Kind of." He stopped when she smiled ironically.

"Funny." He stared at her and after a pause she continued. "In a way that's like me. For the past week... my life has been that dream. Only..." her voice drifted off for a moment before she averted her gaze back out toward the lake. "It was more of a nightmare, I guess." She sighed again. "Chandler, what are you saying?" Before he could answer she continued, her eyes filling with the tears she'd been holding back all day. "Because I can't handle this. I can't handle the hope at the possibility of having you back and then losing it again. I can't. I'm not strong enough. So... please, just tell me straight up what you're talking about, because I just can't handl--" She was cut off as he suddenly scooted closer to her and kissed her gently. In the instant their lips touched, the floodgates opened and the haze cleared and he was suddenly without any confusion whatsoever. It was as though Kathy and the past weeks had all been a dream from which he had suddenly awoken. He deepened the kiss slightly, cradling her head gently in his hand. After a moment he pulled away and noticed the tears that were rolling freely down her cheeks. Her eyes still seemed to be begging him for some reassurance that it wasn't a game.

He kissed her gently once more as he rested his forehead against hers. "Love is friendship caught on fire," he whispered, sending a chill down her back. "Blue sweatshirt. Rolling eights at the craps table. A princess-cut diamond ring. The key that broke in the door when I tried to christen it. Sock bunnies and mixed tapes." The tears had increased and Monica could barely find the ability to speak. The hope that it was real seemed too good to be true, and the anxiety was nearly suffocating her.

"Ch-- Chandler," she choked out.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Hildy. From the museum. The best day of my life. I realized... you wanted to spend forever with me." She tried to draw in a breath as her body shook. He squeezed her upper arms as he kissed her forehead gently. "I love you." Monica closed her eyes as he rested his lips against her forehead. "Please. Please Monica, tell me I haven't ruined it."

"Oh, Chandler..." Her voice trailed off as she looked up at him. "You could never ruin it." She allowed him to wrap his arms around her as she noted with relief that it suddenly felt like the embrace of fiance-Chandler and not friend-Chandler. Her body shook with the sobs that she had been desperately battling for what seemed like weeks, and as he rubbed her back soothingly she allowed her once pent-up emotions to be released. And yet, despite the hell she had been in, she didn't have as many tears as she'd thought. "Then again," she thought to herself. "There's not much to cry about now that I'm back in his arms." She took a shaky breath as her tears slowed and she pulled away from him. "I love you," she whispered fiercely. He gazed at her red eyes and smiled slightly.

"How is it that you're so breathtakingly beautiful, even when you're so upset?" She smiled through her tears and he grinned back as he pulled away slightly. "Hang on, I have a tissue." He reached into his pocket and grabbed one. As he pulled it out he noticed that his mother's necklace had been tangled up with it and it fell to the ground. He bent to pick it up and suddenly stared at it, remembering the night he'd given it to her and the tale his mother had told him. "Whoa." Realizing what he was thinking, Monica spoke in a quiet voice.

"She told you the story too, huh?" Chandler nodded.

"Power of the human mind," he mumbled. Monica sighed as she leaned against him.

"Not even crazy tales and superstitions could keep us apart." She knew how trite it sounded, but in that moment she couldn't have cared less. She was back in Chandler's arms. Back in the only arms that had ever offered her all the protection the world had to give, and the arms in which she had feared she'd never be embraced again.

"Nothing ever will," he promised her. She gazed up at him adoringly, once again lost in a sea of happiness as she was reassured by the loving and protective look that had reappeared in his sky blue eyes. He kissed her forehead once again. "As much as I love holding you, what would you say to moving off of this cold slab of concrete?" Monica smiled, the first real smile in over a week, and as he stood and extended his hand she accepted and rose beside him. He glanced at the necklace that he still held in his hand, and then back at her, wondering what to do with the family heirloom that seemed to be more of a problem than a present.

"Sweetheart, as beautiful as it is..." Monica trailed off, not wanting to offend him. He grinned down at her.

"I'll give it back to my mother," he said softly, smiling. "Jewelry's jewelry, and she sure as hell isn't one to worry about divorce." Monica smiled as he tucked the choker into his pocket and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist as they headed toward home, safe in the knowledge that their love had survived the most absurd of obstacles. Monica paused slightly and he looked down at her carefully.

"Do you think maybe she has a ring that could turn you into my slave?"

Chandler tried to glare at her, but he couldn't deny the grin that was underneath it. He kissed her head and, breathing in the smell of her hair, whispered, "I've already surrendered to you." Mon smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder as they resumed their walk home, knowing that, while she would allow him to think of her as the strong and controlling one, she had seen that her life without him had neither strength nor control, happiness nor purpose. She also knew that somehow they'd been tested and had survived, not just individually but together.