Warning: This story is totally ridiculous, and really weird. I ask that you realize that I have obviously lost my grip on reality, and go with the flow.
If Love Is All We Have, Part Four
"I Need You Now, Like I Needed You Then"
~New York City~
Chandler's service was short, and small. It was held in Central Park, since they had nothing to bury. Monica, Ross, Rachel Joey and Phoebe were joined only by Jack and Judy Geller, and Charles and Nora Tyler Bing.
Monica was stoic throughout the entire service, gazing sadly at the horizon as the sun set. She could not remember walking back to the apartment. Before she knew it, she found herself standing on the veranda, looking out onto the city.
She watched silently, as the world around her continued on.
"She's been out there a long time," Phoebe observed, as she gazed out at Monica.
"I think we really need to give her some space," Ross said sadly.
"I can't believe we just had a funeral for Chandler. It just doesn't seem right," Phoebe said quietly.
"Nothing about this seems right, Pheebs," Ross said quietly.
***
It had been two weeks since Chandler's memorial service, yet Monica still felt like she needed closure. Something about this entire thing seemed wrong to her, and she just didn't know how to explain it. She sighed heavily, as she thumbed through the mail. She came upon one of Chandler's credit card bills, and felt her throat close up. She hated making these phone calls, telling these total strangers that Chandler was dead. She sighed again and flipped through the remainder of the mail. The last thing she came across was an envelope with her name across it. There was no return address, and no post mark. Her brow furrowed in confusion. She opened up the letter, and nearly fell to the floor when she saw the letter. It was Chandler's handwriting. She felt tears flow down her cheeks, as she tried to read the letter. But the words had become blurred, and she reluctently put down the letter, so that she could grab a tissue. After wiping away her initial tears, she picked up the letter, and began to read.
Dear Monica,
I don't know if this letter will reach you. I am putting all of my trust into a person that I have only known for a few days. I know that you must be confused. Maybe you hate me, though I certainly hope not. I wish I could tell you where I am, and why I was taken, but I am so afraid that this letter will wind up in the wrong hands, and that you will be hurt. I just need you to know, that I am okay, and that I love you. I love you so much, it hurts. I sit here, staring out the window, every day, thinking of nothing but you, and how I've let you down. I promised you the world, and now I can't deliver on my promises. I hate myself for hurting you, and I hate that I let myself fall in love. Don't get me wrong, I do not regret falling in love with you. From the moment you kissed me in London, my world became a brighter, more wonderful place. I am alive because of you. You are my world, and always will be. If I could have one wish, it would be to see you just one more time, so that I could kiss you and tell you that you are my everything. Unfortunately, I can't do that. But I needed to say goodbye. I hate that I can't ever see you again, and I wish I could tell you why. Just know that you will always be a part of me, in my heart and soul. I love you forever.
Chandler
ps. Please give my love to Joey, Ross, Phoebe and Rachel. Together, you are my family, and you always will be.
~*~
Monica put down the letter, as a combination of shock, elation, sadness and anger coursed through her trembling body. She was so overwhelmed by her emotions, that her head began to throb. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. So she simply sat at the kitchen table in silence.
An hour later, Ross and Rachel walked into Monica's apartment, to find Monica's bedroom door closed, and all of the lights out.
"Monica?" Ross called.
Monica came out of her room, wearing a strange, indecypherable expression on her face. She almost looked happy, yet her mouth was turned downward.
"Mon, are you okay?" Rachel asked slowly.
"Are Phoebe and Joey coming over?" Monica asked.
"Uh, yeah. Mon, what's going on?" Ross approached his little sister, concern written all over his face.
Before Monica could reply, Joey and Phoebe walked in.
"Hey, what's up?" Phoebe asked, as Joey stood behind her, his eyes bloodshot, most likely from a lack of sleep.
"Chandler's alive," Monica said, her voice emotionless.
"Mon, we've been through this. You have to let him go," Ross said, a patronizing tone in his voice.
"He's alive.," Monica repeated, holding up the letter that she hadn't put down since she'd read it the first time.
Ross took the letter, and read it out loud to the rest of the group. The four friends stood in front of Ross, in utter shock.
"I...I can't believe this. Wh-where is he?" Rachel said.
"There's no postmark or address on the envelope. Even my address wasn't on it," Monica pointed to the envelope that sat on the kitchen table. Ross went to pick it up, and Joey stopped him.
"Wait! Ross, that's evidence," Joey said sternly.
"Evidence? What the hell are you talking about?" Ross asked.
"Phoebe and I hired a private investigator to find Chandler."
"What?" Ross and Monica said simoultaniously.
"Yeah, we just thought everything was really weird, ya know? So we hired someone to look into it. This letter should help, dontcha think, Pheebs?" Joey turned to Phoebe.
"Yeah, definitely."
"Why didn't you guys tell us about this?" Ross asked.
"Because we knew that you'd think we were nuts. You wanted to have a funeral and stuff! We just never really believed that Chandler was dead."
"Wow," was all Ross could say.
Monica smiled. "Well, let's go see what this Private Dick has to say, then."
"Ew, Mon, that's disgusting!" Joey said.
"A Private Dick is short for Private Investigator, Joey," Rachel said.
"Oh. Heehee." Joey grinned, as everyone else rolled their eyes.
******
~Two Weeks Earlier~
"Wow, that's quite a story," Thomas sat on his half-brother's bed, listening as Chandler told him about his life in New York. "So, you didn't even get to say good bye to Monica?"
"Nope."
"That sucks," Thomas said. The two sat in silence for a minute, then Thomas snapped his fingers. "I know what we can do!" he said, his eyes lighting up.
"Do about what?" Chandler asked, confused.
"If you can write a letter to Monica, there may be a way to get it to New York."
"Really?" Chandler smiled for the first time since he was taken.
"Yeah. Dad uses some weird way to get messages to the States. I can slip the letter in, and the courier will just think it's a regular delivery. All you need to do, is put her first and last name on the envelope. I'll take care of the rest."
"Wow. Uh, Thomas, why are you doing this?"
"Hey, we're brothers," Thomas smiled.
"Yeah," Chandler grinned. Inside he wasn't sure whether he could trust Thomas. But Thomas had been willing to let him whine for an hour about losing Monica, so he figured, he'd give it a try.
"There is one other thing we could do, but I don't think you'd agree to it," Thomas said, as he stood up.
"What is it?"
Thomas looked around the room, as his voice took a hushed, conspiratorial tone. "Okay, but you can't tell anyone..."
*
Two days later, Chandler had decided to go with the letter option. He had gone through fifteen drafts, before writing down the final version. While his first version had rambled on for six pages, his final version was a short, to the point paragraph.
"I hope this works," Chandler said sofly.
"Me too," Thomas replied, before taking the letter and walking away.
Chandler watched, as his half brother walked down the dimly-lit corridor. Though he hadn't known Thomas long, he felt that he could trust him to do everything he could to get the letter to Monica. He sighed, and walked back into his bedroom, and leaned up against the door. After a minute, he walked to his dresser, and dug throught the stack of sweaters that Frank had put in there for him. Chandler felt around the bottom of the drawer, until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the tattered photograph, and sat down on the bed, his thumb grazing the top of the photo lightly. It was his favourite picture of Monica, and the only one he was able to conceal, when Frank's thugs took his wallet and had it, along with all of his identification, destroyed. Chandler knew the drill. Get rid of Chandler's identity, then make sure that the papers in New York got the information on his death. He could only pray that Monica and the others never saw that paper.
Chandler looked at the photo longingly, his only semlance of a life that he was being forced to leave behind. The photo was of him and Monica, taken by Joey, soon after everyone had found out about them. Monica was looking directly into the camera, and was smiling. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her face radiated. Chandler wasn't looking at the camera. He had his head turned, and his eyes closed, his forehead leaning on Monica's temple. There was a content grin on his face. Chandler liked the picture, because Monica looked so beautiful in it. He remembered showing it to coworkers, who couldn't believe that he could get a girl like Mon. Hell, half the time, *he* couldn't believe he had gotten so lucky. Chandler set the photo down, and rested his head on his hands. He closed his eyes, and felt his heart break. He stood up and shook his head, and reluctently put the photograph back into his drawer. Then he fell onto the bed, cried himself to sleep, and dreamt of the life he would never be able to have.
****
Thomas returned to Chandler's room to let him know that he was able to sneak the letter in, unnoticed. As he raised his hand to knock on Chandler's door, he could hear the muffled sounds of Chandler crying. Thomas lowered his hand and shook his head. He couldn't believe Frank could be this cruel. Frank didn't really need Chandler, but he would be damned if anyone, particularly his own sons, defy the great Frank Barlow. Frank had made it his mission to find Chandler again. If only Frank could see how much pain he was causing his own son. Thomas thought for a minute, a sly smile creeping up on his face. He ran down the hall, desperate to talk to Francesco. Francesco was Frank's right hand man, and did everything for Frank, but, unbeknownst to Frank, Francesco was looking for a way, any way, to take over Frank's businesses. If Thomas could convince Francesco that he could help himself by helping Chandler, then Thomas could pull off his plan.
Thomas knew that Chandler was against the idea, but he also knew that it was the only way to get Chandler home.
If Love Is All We Have, Part Four
"I Need You Now, Like I Needed You Then"
~New York City~
Chandler's service was short, and small. It was held in Central Park, since they had nothing to bury. Monica, Ross, Rachel Joey and Phoebe were joined only by Jack and Judy Geller, and Charles and Nora Tyler Bing.
Monica was stoic throughout the entire service, gazing sadly at the horizon as the sun set. She could not remember walking back to the apartment. Before she knew it, she found herself standing on the veranda, looking out onto the city.
She watched silently, as the world around her continued on.
"She's been out there a long time," Phoebe observed, as she gazed out at Monica.
"I think we really need to give her some space," Ross said sadly.
"I can't believe we just had a funeral for Chandler. It just doesn't seem right," Phoebe said quietly.
"Nothing about this seems right, Pheebs," Ross said quietly.
***
It had been two weeks since Chandler's memorial service, yet Monica still felt like she needed closure. Something about this entire thing seemed wrong to her, and she just didn't know how to explain it. She sighed heavily, as she thumbed through the mail. She came upon one of Chandler's credit card bills, and felt her throat close up. She hated making these phone calls, telling these total strangers that Chandler was dead. She sighed again and flipped through the remainder of the mail. The last thing she came across was an envelope with her name across it. There was no return address, and no post mark. Her brow furrowed in confusion. She opened up the letter, and nearly fell to the floor when she saw the letter. It was Chandler's handwriting. She felt tears flow down her cheeks, as she tried to read the letter. But the words had become blurred, and she reluctently put down the letter, so that she could grab a tissue. After wiping away her initial tears, she picked up the letter, and began to read.
Dear Monica,
I don't know if this letter will reach you. I am putting all of my trust into a person that I have only known for a few days. I know that you must be confused. Maybe you hate me, though I certainly hope not. I wish I could tell you where I am, and why I was taken, but I am so afraid that this letter will wind up in the wrong hands, and that you will be hurt. I just need you to know, that I am okay, and that I love you. I love you so much, it hurts. I sit here, staring out the window, every day, thinking of nothing but you, and how I've let you down. I promised you the world, and now I can't deliver on my promises. I hate myself for hurting you, and I hate that I let myself fall in love. Don't get me wrong, I do not regret falling in love with you. From the moment you kissed me in London, my world became a brighter, more wonderful place. I am alive because of you. You are my world, and always will be. If I could have one wish, it would be to see you just one more time, so that I could kiss you and tell you that you are my everything. Unfortunately, I can't do that. But I needed to say goodbye. I hate that I can't ever see you again, and I wish I could tell you why. Just know that you will always be a part of me, in my heart and soul. I love you forever.
Chandler
ps. Please give my love to Joey, Ross, Phoebe and Rachel. Together, you are my family, and you always will be.
~*~
Monica put down the letter, as a combination of shock, elation, sadness and anger coursed through her trembling body. She was so overwhelmed by her emotions, that her head began to throb. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. So she simply sat at the kitchen table in silence.
An hour later, Ross and Rachel walked into Monica's apartment, to find Monica's bedroom door closed, and all of the lights out.
"Monica?" Ross called.
Monica came out of her room, wearing a strange, indecypherable expression on her face. She almost looked happy, yet her mouth was turned downward.
"Mon, are you okay?" Rachel asked slowly.
"Are Phoebe and Joey coming over?" Monica asked.
"Uh, yeah. Mon, what's going on?" Ross approached his little sister, concern written all over his face.
Before Monica could reply, Joey and Phoebe walked in.
"Hey, what's up?" Phoebe asked, as Joey stood behind her, his eyes bloodshot, most likely from a lack of sleep.
"Chandler's alive," Monica said, her voice emotionless.
"Mon, we've been through this. You have to let him go," Ross said, a patronizing tone in his voice.
"He's alive.," Monica repeated, holding up the letter that she hadn't put down since she'd read it the first time.
Ross took the letter, and read it out loud to the rest of the group. The four friends stood in front of Ross, in utter shock.
"I...I can't believe this. Wh-where is he?" Rachel said.
"There's no postmark or address on the envelope. Even my address wasn't on it," Monica pointed to the envelope that sat on the kitchen table. Ross went to pick it up, and Joey stopped him.
"Wait! Ross, that's evidence," Joey said sternly.
"Evidence? What the hell are you talking about?" Ross asked.
"Phoebe and I hired a private investigator to find Chandler."
"What?" Ross and Monica said simoultaniously.
"Yeah, we just thought everything was really weird, ya know? So we hired someone to look into it. This letter should help, dontcha think, Pheebs?" Joey turned to Phoebe.
"Yeah, definitely."
"Why didn't you guys tell us about this?" Ross asked.
"Because we knew that you'd think we were nuts. You wanted to have a funeral and stuff! We just never really believed that Chandler was dead."
"Wow," was all Ross could say.
Monica smiled. "Well, let's go see what this Private Dick has to say, then."
"Ew, Mon, that's disgusting!" Joey said.
"A Private Dick is short for Private Investigator, Joey," Rachel said.
"Oh. Heehee." Joey grinned, as everyone else rolled their eyes.
******
~Two Weeks Earlier~
"Wow, that's quite a story," Thomas sat on his half-brother's bed, listening as Chandler told him about his life in New York. "So, you didn't even get to say good bye to Monica?"
"Nope."
"That sucks," Thomas said. The two sat in silence for a minute, then Thomas snapped his fingers. "I know what we can do!" he said, his eyes lighting up.
"Do about what?" Chandler asked, confused.
"If you can write a letter to Monica, there may be a way to get it to New York."
"Really?" Chandler smiled for the first time since he was taken.
"Yeah. Dad uses some weird way to get messages to the States. I can slip the letter in, and the courier will just think it's a regular delivery. All you need to do, is put her first and last name on the envelope. I'll take care of the rest."
"Wow. Uh, Thomas, why are you doing this?"
"Hey, we're brothers," Thomas smiled.
"Yeah," Chandler grinned. Inside he wasn't sure whether he could trust Thomas. But Thomas had been willing to let him whine for an hour about losing Monica, so he figured, he'd give it a try.
"There is one other thing we could do, but I don't think you'd agree to it," Thomas said, as he stood up.
"What is it?"
Thomas looked around the room, as his voice took a hushed, conspiratorial tone. "Okay, but you can't tell anyone..."
*
Two days later, Chandler had decided to go with the letter option. He had gone through fifteen drafts, before writing down the final version. While his first version had rambled on for six pages, his final version was a short, to the point paragraph.
"I hope this works," Chandler said sofly.
"Me too," Thomas replied, before taking the letter and walking away.
Chandler watched, as his half brother walked down the dimly-lit corridor. Though he hadn't known Thomas long, he felt that he could trust him to do everything he could to get the letter to Monica. He sighed, and walked back into his bedroom, and leaned up against the door. After a minute, he walked to his dresser, and dug throught the stack of sweaters that Frank had put in there for him. Chandler felt around the bottom of the drawer, until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the tattered photograph, and sat down on the bed, his thumb grazing the top of the photo lightly. It was his favourite picture of Monica, and the only one he was able to conceal, when Frank's thugs took his wallet and had it, along with all of his identification, destroyed. Chandler knew the drill. Get rid of Chandler's identity, then make sure that the papers in New York got the information on his death. He could only pray that Monica and the others never saw that paper.
Chandler looked at the photo longingly, his only semlance of a life that he was being forced to leave behind. The photo was of him and Monica, taken by Joey, soon after everyone had found out about them. Monica was looking directly into the camera, and was smiling. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her face radiated. Chandler wasn't looking at the camera. He had his head turned, and his eyes closed, his forehead leaning on Monica's temple. There was a content grin on his face. Chandler liked the picture, because Monica looked so beautiful in it. He remembered showing it to coworkers, who couldn't believe that he could get a girl like Mon. Hell, half the time, *he* couldn't believe he had gotten so lucky. Chandler set the photo down, and rested his head on his hands. He closed his eyes, and felt his heart break. He stood up and shook his head, and reluctently put the photograph back into his drawer. Then he fell onto the bed, cried himself to sleep, and dreamt of the life he would never be able to have.
****
Thomas returned to Chandler's room to let him know that he was able to sneak the letter in, unnoticed. As he raised his hand to knock on Chandler's door, he could hear the muffled sounds of Chandler crying. Thomas lowered his hand and shook his head. He couldn't believe Frank could be this cruel. Frank didn't really need Chandler, but he would be damned if anyone, particularly his own sons, defy the great Frank Barlow. Frank had made it his mission to find Chandler again. If only Frank could see how much pain he was causing his own son. Thomas thought for a minute, a sly smile creeping up on his face. He ran down the hall, desperate to talk to Francesco. Francesco was Frank's right hand man, and did everything for Frank, but, unbeknownst to Frank, Francesco was looking for a way, any way, to take over Frank's businesses. If Thomas could convince Francesco that he could help himself by helping Chandler, then Thomas could pull off his plan.
Thomas knew that Chandler was against the idea, but he also knew that it was the only way to get Chandler home.