Okay, so it has been pointed out to me that Chandler & Monica weren't dating in 1997. But let's just pretend they were, okay? LOL.
This one is actually darker than the other ones, if you can believe that. Strong violence warning.
**********************
The Sins of The Father
Chapter Three~The Past
~Thanksgiving, 1977~
The fight was bad--worse than usual. Chandler couldn't remember what had started it. All he could do was watch, as his father threw Thanksgiving food and dishes at his mother. Jonah was under the table, crying. As the screaming grew louder, Jonah's wails became louder, and more desperate. The noise only pissed their father off more. He turned his attention away from his wife, and glared at Chandler.
"Shut your fucking brother up, or face the consequences," he seethed.
Chandler scooted under the table, and wrapped his skinny arms around his crying brother.
"C'mon, Jonah, you gotta stop crying," Chandler whispered, but to no avail. Jonah continued to whimper loudly. "Jonah, Pleeease! Dad's really mad!"
Before Chandler knew what was happening, the table that was protecting him and Jonah was tipped over, and their father was standing over them, his face red from yelling.
"I told you to shut him up! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Chandler looked at the floor, too afraid to look up, too afraid to speak.
"Answer me, you little shit!"
"He's scared!" Chandler yelled, louder than he should have. His father yanked Jonah away from him.
"I'll give you something to be scared of," he growled, kicking Jonah across the room. Chandler yelled out, as Jonah hit the wall of the dining room. He looked up at his father, tears lining his eyes. "I hate you!" he yelled bravely.
Daniel turned and looked at Chandler, shocked by his audacity. He smirked, his drugged-up eyes boring a hole into Chandler's soul. He then uttered the four words that would stick with Chandler for the rest of his life.
"I hate you too." Daniel kicked Chandler in the face, just as his wife was coming to.
"No! Leave them alone!" she screamed, and Daniel had had enough. He kicked Chandler again, and staggered over toward his wife. Chandler faded in and out of consciousness, barely aware of the all too familiar sound of his father beating his mother again.
*
Chandler opened his eyes, and saw the ceiling above him spinning. He could taste blood in his mouth, and his chest hurt. He struggled to sit up, and when he did, he saw that he was in the middle of the dining room. An untouched turkey lay askew on the floor next to him. His father was passed out in the corner of the living room. Jonah was on one side of the dining room, and his mother was on the other.
"Mom?" Chandler whispered, hoping that he wouldn't wake his father. He dragged his scrawny, broken body over to his mother, hoping to convince her that they needed to leave. They needed to get away from *him*. His mother was hunched in a corner, unconscious. Chandler shook his mother, like he always did after a beating. Usually she would awaken, and wrap her bruised arms around Chandler, and tell him it would be okay. Chandler needed her to do that, right now. He shook her again. "Mom, please. Mom!"
She didn't move, she didn't wake up. Chandler felt panic and fear course through his veins. He crawled over to Jonah, pulling him from the mashed potatoes that he'd landed in when he'd hit the floor.
"Jonah, Mom won't wake up, we gotta go get Mrs. Harper--" Chandler looked at his baby brother, his eyes wide in horror. Jonah's little blue eyes were open, his face was purple, and his body cold. "Jonah!" Chandler cried. He heard his father stir. Chandler pulled himself up, and ran across the street to find Mrs. Harper.
*
Olanda Harper was a sixty-year old retired teacher from New Orleans. She spoke with a Cajun drawl, and was always cooking something that, according to Chandler, stunk. She had made it a habit to take in Chandler and Jonah when things got particularly bad between the Bing's. That night she was cooking a Cajun-style Thanksgiving dinner for her four children and ten grandchildren when she heard someone pounding on her front door. She heard her eldest daughter answer the door, then heard her yell into the kitchen.
"Mama, you'd better get in here. There's a little boy at your door."
Olanda knew immediately that it was little Chandler Bing. She ran to the front door, and gasped. His face was swollen, his mouth bleeding. Her heart broke, knowing that he was worse than he looked. This time, she thought to herself, Daniel Bing had gone too far.
"Rebecca, call the police," Olanda said quietly, as she approached Chandler. "Chandler, sweetheart, where's Jonah?"
"He's all purple Mrs. Harper. He won't move. And my Mom won't wake up to help me."
Olanda fought back her tears of sorrow and rage. She led Chandler into the living room, and instructed her other two daughters to get him some food, and keep a close eye on him. She watched for a second as the scared little boy was wrapped in a blanket and looked at by her son James, a resident at Johns Hopkins.
Olanda shook her head sadly, and made her way across the street. The Bing house was dark, and eerily quiet. She looked around at the chaotic mess. This wasn't the first time Olanda had called the police on Daniel Bing. But it had never been this bad, and the cops were never able to make the charges stick, because Mrs. Bing refused to press charges. Olanda walked over to Jonah, and saw that he was, indeed, dead. Olanda closed her eyes, and said a short prayer for the little boy, before making her way over to his mother.
"Caroline?" Olanda shook Caroline Bing, and was happy that she had at least stirred. But her eyes hadn't opened, and Olanda knew that she needed medical attention. She picked up the phone, and called her house.
"Rebecca, can you send James over here when he finishes with Chandler? Caroline needs help."
***
Nora Tyler Bing sat next to her husband Charles, listening to the social worker as she explained the situation. Charles was having a hard time believing that his brother was capable of such horrendous acts.
"You will become Chandler's legal guardians, until it can be determined that Caroline Bing is capable of caring for him herself," the social worker explained plainly.
Nora looked at Charles, and realized that their divorce was going to have to wait a bit. Chandler needed a stable environment, and Nora was determined to give him one, no matter what.
***
"Caroline? There are some people here to see you," the nurse lightly placed her hand on her patient's shoulder.
Caroline did not respond. She couldn't. Her brain had totally shut down, a defense mechanism to deal with the horrible events of a month ago. Her physical injuries were healing quickly, but mentally, Caroline was still in a state of shock. She continued to stare out the window of her stark white room, oblivious to the fact that her brother and sister-in-law were standing next to her.
"Caroline, please come back to us," Nora whispered. "Chandler needs you. He is so quiet and distant. He asks about you every day. Please Caroline, come back for him." Nora sat back, concern written on her face.
"She's not getting any better, is she?" Charles said sadly.
"No," Nora said quietly.
***
Daniel Bing was convicted of Manslaughter for the death of his son Jonah, and sentenced to forty years, with the possibility of parole in twenty. The convictioned sickened Charles, who went to the trial alone, while Nora watched Chandler. He didn't want his nephew anywhere near his brother. Charles relayed the information to Nora, who was also floored by the short sentence.
"They worked out some kind of deal, apparently," Charles said.
"So Daniel could be out in twenty years?"
"Yeah. Chandler will be, what, 28 by then?"
"Yeah, well maybe the bastard will die before then."
"Nora--"
"What? He killed his own son, Charles. He nearly killed his other one. I know he's your brother but--"
"I know, Nora. You're right. He should rot in Hell."
"Aunt Nora?" Nora turned, startled by Chandler's quiet appearance.
"Chandler, sweetheart, are you okay?" She hoped he hadn't heard their conversation.
"I had a bad dream."
"Oh, honey, come here," Nora wrapped her arms around Chandler, and felt him tremble, and eventually cry onto her shoulder. She closed her eyes, and cryed with him.
***
~1982~
"Aunt Nora!" Chandler bounded up the steps to his house, and ran through the front door.
"What? What is it Chandler?" Nora looked at Chandler, concern lining her eyes.
"I got on the team!" Chandler said excitedly.
"Oh, honey that's great!' Nora sighed with relief. She wasn't sure what to expect when she heard her nephew screaming. "Um, what team, honey?"
"The tennis team! Duh!" Chandler sighed in frusteration.
"Oh! Of course, I'm sorry sweetheart, it's just you keep joining all these clubs and teams, and I get them all mixed up!" Nora looked at her nephew apoligetically.
"Whatever," Chandler laughed, and bouded up the stairs to his room.
Nora sighed. She was amazed at how well Chandler had bouced back from all that had happened. Aside from the occasional nightmare and strange outburst now and then, Chandler was an average thirteen year old. Nora smiled to herself, hoping that he would really be okay. The phone rang, and Nora went to answer it.
"Hello?"
"I'm looking for Nora or Charles Bing?"
"This is Nora Bing, can I help you?"
"This is Dr. Johansen from Bellevue Medical Centre. I'm afraid I have some bad news."
*
"Nora, what happened, where's Chandler?" Charles came rushing home, after receiving a frantic message from Nora.
"He's upstairs, taking a nap. Charles, I got a call from Bellevue."
"What's happened?"
"Caroline killed herself," Nora said quietly, a look of saddened defeat in her eyes.
"Oh my God."
"Chandler is doing so well. And this is going to hurt him so much," Nora sobbed.
"We should tell him now," Charles said quietly.
"Tell me what?" Chandler wandered into the kitchen, and grabbed an apple from the counter. "Aunt Nora, what's wrong?"
"Chandler, sit down sweetie," Nora sniffled.
"It's my Mom, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is."
Chandler blinked, and tried to prepare himself for the news. As Nora explained what happened, Chandler felt himself slipping away from reality. He felt himself being engulfed by the darkness again.
***
~1988~
Chandler layed on his bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling. It was his first time away from Nora and Charles since he was taken in by them, and deep down, he was scared. As much as he wanted to be out on his own, he felt a little hesitant about leaving the security of Nora and Charles' home. Suddenly, his dorm room opened, and a skinny, curly-haired kid fumbled in.
"Hey, need some help?" Chandler smiled and stood up.
"Yeah, thanks."
Chandler took a box from the kid, and set it down on the pressed wood desk. "I'm Chandler Bing."
"Ross Geller."
"Nice to meet you, Ross."
***
This one is actually darker than the other ones, if you can believe that. Strong violence warning.
**********************
The Sins of The Father
Chapter Three~The Past
~Thanksgiving, 1977~
The fight was bad--worse than usual. Chandler couldn't remember what had started it. All he could do was watch, as his father threw Thanksgiving food and dishes at his mother. Jonah was under the table, crying. As the screaming grew louder, Jonah's wails became louder, and more desperate. The noise only pissed their father off more. He turned his attention away from his wife, and glared at Chandler.
"Shut your fucking brother up, or face the consequences," he seethed.
Chandler scooted under the table, and wrapped his skinny arms around his crying brother.
"C'mon, Jonah, you gotta stop crying," Chandler whispered, but to no avail. Jonah continued to whimper loudly. "Jonah, Pleeease! Dad's really mad!"
Before Chandler knew what was happening, the table that was protecting him and Jonah was tipped over, and their father was standing over them, his face red from yelling.
"I told you to shut him up! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Chandler looked at the floor, too afraid to look up, too afraid to speak.
"Answer me, you little shit!"
"He's scared!" Chandler yelled, louder than he should have. His father yanked Jonah away from him.
"I'll give you something to be scared of," he growled, kicking Jonah across the room. Chandler yelled out, as Jonah hit the wall of the dining room. He looked up at his father, tears lining his eyes. "I hate you!" he yelled bravely.
Daniel turned and looked at Chandler, shocked by his audacity. He smirked, his drugged-up eyes boring a hole into Chandler's soul. He then uttered the four words that would stick with Chandler for the rest of his life.
"I hate you too." Daniel kicked Chandler in the face, just as his wife was coming to.
"No! Leave them alone!" she screamed, and Daniel had had enough. He kicked Chandler again, and staggered over toward his wife. Chandler faded in and out of consciousness, barely aware of the all too familiar sound of his father beating his mother again.
*
Chandler opened his eyes, and saw the ceiling above him spinning. He could taste blood in his mouth, and his chest hurt. He struggled to sit up, and when he did, he saw that he was in the middle of the dining room. An untouched turkey lay askew on the floor next to him. His father was passed out in the corner of the living room. Jonah was on one side of the dining room, and his mother was on the other.
"Mom?" Chandler whispered, hoping that he wouldn't wake his father. He dragged his scrawny, broken body over to his mother, hoping to convince her that they needed to leave. They needed to get away from *him*. His mother was hunched in a corner, unconscious. Chandler shook his mother, like he always did after a beating. Usually she would awaken, and wrap her bruised arms around Chandler, and tell him it would be okay. Chandler needed her to do that, right now. He shook her again. "Mom, please. Mom!"
She didn't move, she didn't wake up. Chandler felt panic and fear course through his veins. He crawled over to Jonah, pulling him from the mashed potatoes that he'd landed in when he'd hit the floor.
"Jonah, Mom won't wake up, we gotta go get Mrs. Harper--" Chandler looked at his baby brother, his eyes wide in horror. Jonah's little blue eyes were open, his face was purple, and his body cold. "Jonah!" Chandler cried. He heard his father stir. Chandler pulled himself up, and ran across the street to find Mrs. Harper.
*
Olanda Harper was a sixty-year old retired teacher from New Orleans. She spoke with a Cajun drawl, and was always cooking something that, according to Chandler, stunk. She had made it a habit to take in Chandler and Jonah when things got particularly bad between the Bing's. That night she was cooking a Cajun-style Thanksgiving dinner for her four children and ten grandchildren when she heard someone pounding on her front door. She heard her eldest daughter answer the door, then heard her yell into the kitchen.
"Mama, you'd better get in here. There's a little boy at your door."
Olanda knew immediately that it was little Chandler Bing. She ran to the front door, and gasped. His face was swollen, his mouth bleeding. Her heart broke, knowing that he was worse than he looked. This time, she thought to herself, Daniel Bing had gone too far.
"Rebecca, call the police," Olanda said quietly, as she approached Chandler. "Chandler, sweetheart, where's Jonah?"
"He's all purple Mrs. Harper. He won't move. And my Mom won't wake up to help me."
Olanda fought back her tears of sorrow and rage. She led Chandler into the living room, and instructed her other two daughters to get him some food, and keep a close eye on him. She watched for a second as the scared little boy was wrapped in a blanket and looked at by her son James, a resident at Johns Hopkins.
Olanda shook her head sadly, and made her way across the street. The Bing house was dark, and eerily quiet. She looked around at the chaotic mess. This wasn't the first time Olanda had called the police on Daniel Bing. But it had never been this bad, and the cops were never able to make the charges stick, because Mrs. Bing refused to press charges. Olanda walked over to Jonah, and saw that he was, indeed, dead. Olanda closed her eyes, and said a short prayer for the little boy, before making her way over to his mother.
"Caroline?" Olanda shook Caroline Bing, and was happy that she had at least stirred. But her eyes hadn't opened, and Olanda knew that she needed medical attention. She picked up the phone, and called her house.
"Rebecca, can you send James over here when he finishes with Chandler? Caroline needs help."
***
Nora Tyler Bing sat next to her husband Charles, listening to the social worker as she explained the situation. Charles was having a hard time believing that his brother was capable of such horrendous acts.
"You will become Chandler's legal guardians, until it can be determined that Caroline Bing is capable of caring for him herself," the social worker explained plainly.
Nora looked at Charles, and realized that their divorce was going to have to wait a bit. Chandler needed a stable environment, and Nora was determined to give him one, no matter what.
***
"Caroline? There are some people here to see you," the nurse lightly placed her hand on her patient's shoulder.
Caroline did not respond. She couldn't. Her brain had totally shut down, a defense mechanism to deal with the horrible events of a month ago. Her physical injuries were healing quickly, but mentally, Caroline was still in a state of shock. She continued to stare out the window of her stark white room, oblivious to the fact that her brother and sister-in-law were standing next to her.
"Caroline, please come back to us," Nora whispered. "Chandler needs you. He is so quiet and distant. He asks about you every day. Please Caroline, come back for him." Nora sat back, concern written on her face.
"She's not getting any better, is she?" Charles said sadly.
"No," Nora said quietly.
***
Daniel Bing was convicted of Manslaughter for the death of his son Jonah, and sentenced to forty years, with the possibility of parole in twenty. The convictioned sickened Charles, who went to the trial alone, while Nora watched Chandler. He didn't want his nephew anywhere near his brother. Charles relayed the information to Nora, who was also floored by the short sentence.
"They worked out some kind of deal, apparently," Charles said.
"So Daniel could be out in twenty years?"
"Yeah. Chandler will be, what, 28 by then?"
"Yeah, well maybe the bastard will die before then."
"Nora--"
"What? He killed his own son, Charles. He nearly killed his other one. I know he's your brother but--"
"I know, Nora. You're right. He should rot in Hell."
"Aunt Nora?" Nora turned, startled by Chandler's quiet appearance.
"Chandler, sweetheart, are you okay?" She hoped he hadn't heard their conversation.
"I had a bad dream."
"Oh, honey, come here," Nora wrapped her arms around Chandler, and felt him tremble, and eventually cry onto her shoulder. She closed her eyes, and cryed with him.
***
~1982~
"Aunt Nora!" Chandler bounded up the steps to his house, and ran through the front door.
"What? What is it Chandler?" Nora looked at Chandler, concern lining her eyes.
"I got on the team!" Chandler said excitedly.
"Oh, honey that's great!' Nora sighed with relief. She wasn't sure what to expect when she heard her nephew screaming. "Um, what team, honey?"
"The tennis team! Duh!" Chandler sighed in frusteration.
"Oh! Of course, I'm sorry sweetheart, it's just you keep joining all these clubs and teams, and I get them all mixed up!" Nora looked at her nephew apoligetically.
"Whatever," Chandler laughed, and bouded up the stairs to his room.
Nora sighed. She was amazed at how well Chandler had bouced back from all that had happened. Aside from the occasional nightmare and strange outburst now and then, Chandler was an average thirteen year old. Nora smiled to herself, hoping that he would really be okay. The phone rang, and Nora went to answer it.
"Hello?"
"I'm looking for Nora or Charles Bing?"
"This is Nora Bing, can I help you?"
"This is Dr. Johansen from Bellevue Medical Centre. I'm afraid I have some bad news."
*
"Nora, what happened, where's Chandler?" Charles came rushing home, after receiving a frantic message from Nora.
"He's upstairs, taking a nap. Charles, I got a call from Bellevue."
"What's happened?"
"Caroline killed herself," Nora said quietly, a look of saddened defeat in her eyes.
"Oh my God."
"Chandler is doing so well. And this is going to hurt him so much," Nora sobbed.
"We should tell him now," Charles said quietly.
"Tell me what?" Chandler wandered into the kitchen, and grabbed an apple from the counter. "Aunt Nora, what's wrong?"
"Chandler, sit down sweetie," Nora sniffled.
"It's my Mom, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is."
Chandler blinked, and tried to prepare himself for the news. As Nora explained what happened, Chandler felt himself slipping away from reality. He felt himself being engulfed by the darkness again.
***
~1988~
Chandler layed on his bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling. It was his first time away from Nora and Charles since he was taken in by them, and deep down, he was scared. As much as he wanted to be out on his own, he felt a little hesitant about leaving the security of Nora and Charles' home. Suddenly, his dorm room opened, and a skinny, curly-haired kid fumbled in.
"Hey, need some help?" Chandler smiled and stood up.
"Yeah, thanks."
Chandler took a box from the kid, and set it down on the pressed wood desk. "I'm Chandler Bing."
"Ross Geller."
"Nice to meet you, Ross."
***
