ooooh, pretty purple.....;)
If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Eight
"Forgive Everything, Forget Nothing"
"Monica, we need to talk."
"Ch-Chandler. You were right," Chandler approached Monica, and saw that she was trembling.
"What happened?" Chandler's face flushed with sudden anger and panic.
"Your father...he was...hitting one of the maids. Oh, Chandler, I'm sorry I didn't believe you. You said he was dangerous...but he was so sweet to me, and-and I just wanted..." Monica began swallowing her breath, trying to control her panicked sobs.
"Shh, it's okay," Chandler sat next to Monica, and wrapped his arms protectively around her, letting her sob into his chest. He stroked her back until she stopped trembling, and pulled away from him.
"Chandler, why did you leave here before? Did he hurt you?" Monica looked at Chandler, her fear and sadness evident on her face. It made Chandler's heart ache.
"No. He's never really...look, it's a long story, Mon." Chandler suddenly felt very tired. He took Monica's hand in his, and looked into her eyes. "Listen to me. I don't want you to get hurt. And I know that things haven't been good between us lately, and I feel like I owe you an explaination, because I know that it's my fault," Chandler took a deep breath, and gave Monica's hands a reassuring squeeze before continuing. "The truth is...I've been trying to, uh, find a way to get you out of here for a long time. Tonight, before you told me about Frank, my intention was to tell you that I no longer loved you, so that you would leave. But looking at you right now," Chandler chuckled lightly, "I would have never gotten through it. Monica, my job...it's not very safe, and it's not very legal. That's all I can tell you. I have to stay here. If I screw up, or if I try to leave, Frank will come after you. I will not let that happen, that I promise you. Mon, you can't stay here. I am asking you to please, please leave."
Monica looked at Chandler in shock. She didn't realize how bad it was. She didn't want to leave, she wanted more than anything to stay with Chandler, to make sure that nothing bad happened to him. But she could see the desperation in his eyes, and the pleading. She knew that if she stayed, Chandler would be forever bound to Frank's every wish. She could see now that he was a prisoner here, and that her being here only raised the stakes of whatever game Frank had Chandler playing. So she did the only thing she could do. And she did it, because she loved Chandler more than anything. She agreed to leave him.
*
Chandler explained to Monica that she would have to play it cool for a few more weeks, while he worked to ensure her safety. Monica was devastated, but understanding when Chandler told her she could not go back to New York. She would be endangering herself, and their friends by doing so. Chandler told Monica that she would have to begin a completely different life, much like he had to when he left at thirteen.
While Monica continued to decorate the house as though nothing had happened, Chandler worked with Thomas and Francesco to create a safe haven for Monica. Ironically, Monica would be sent to London. Chandler smiled, when he thought about how much that city meant to the two of them. His smile faded when he realized they would never be able to create new memories together. Chandler wondered if Monica would eventually move on. If she would marry, and have children one day, and if she would eventually forget about him.
"Chandler? Are you okay?" Thomas interrupted Chandler's disturbing train of thought.
"Yeah. I'm just...I want to go with her. I want to be with her. I hate this," Chandler sighed.
"Well, maybe we should work on getting you out to," Thomas suggested.
"There's no way. Frank would come after me again. I couldn't put Mon through that."
Thomas nodded silently. Inside, his wheels were turning. He still thought that there could be a way.
*
The night approached much more quickly than Chandler and Monica had wanted it to. Frank was out of town on business, and it was the perfect opportunity to sneak Monica out. She would leave with Francesco at dawn. Chandler would make up a story that he and Monica had fought, and that she admitted to not loving him, and that she left, and he had no idea where she'd gone. Frank may try to look for her, that much Chandler knew. But he also knew that Frank would probably be relieved that Monica was gone. That night, Chandler and Monica took dinner in their room, determined to make their last few hours together count. Neither one of them ate. They sat together, on the sofa, curled up in each others arms, hoping that their goodbye's wouldn't be forever. They talked about their past, about London, and about the others. They talked about their secret relationship, and the chaotic day when everyone found out. They talked about everything but the future. They didn't want to think about a future without one another. They made love until the first light of the day began to show itself. Chandler tried to will the sun to stay out of the sky, but knew it was futile. Monica reluctenly dressed, and packed one small bag. It contained a copy of the photo Chandler had hid away from Frank, and a few toiletries. Her life as Monica Geller was about to end. Her obituary had already run in every paper in New York. Chandler walked her to the door, and kissed her deeply, not wanting to let go, but knowing he had to, when Francesco cleared his throat.
"I love you," he whispered into her hair.
"I love you too. Always."
He watched Monica walk toward the van, the very van that had brought her to him. She turned back only once, the morning light revealing her latest set of tears, and then, just like that, she was gone.
***
~New York City~
It was a sunny Sunday morning, yet the four people who sat inside Central Perk looked as gloomy as a rainy day. It had been Rachel who had discovered the article this time. She was flipping through the New York Times early that morning, and came upon a small blurb with a headline that read, "New York Couple Among Dead In Hawaiian Boating Accident". Rachel scanned the article, her eyes reluctently landing on two very familiar names. The article raised more questions than it did answers. Why had Chandler, and later Monica, been abducted? Why were they in Hawaii? Why hadn't they called to say they were together? Were they really dead, or was it another strange cover story? No one wanted to accept that Monica and Chandler were really dead. But if they weren't, where were they?
It was a question that would hang over their heads for a very long time.
***
~Prague~
The merchandise had been destroyed en route. Chandler had to be the one to tell the client. Frank was still in Moscow, his flight back to Prague delayed due to poor weather. Chandler went to the warehouse alone, not wanting to get anyone else involved. But the idea that he'd have to explain this screw-up to a man who he barely knew, scared Chandler. His stomach was doing flips, and he was sweating.
The call regarding the merchandise had come about six hours after Monica had left. Chandler was devastated, but knew that her safety, especially over the first few weeks, would depend on him doing his job. So he took the call, and was horrified to discover that everything had gone so horribly wrong. He'd called the client, Mr. Krovomski, and had agreed to meet him at the warehouse at midnight.
It was now 12:15.
Chandler paced the grounds nervously, not sure how long he should wait. At about 12:25, a car pulled into the yard, and came to a stop in front of Chandler. The headlights shone like a spotlight, illuminating the side of the warehouse, and forcing Chandler to squint, as he watched not one, but four figures emerge from the still-running vehicle. Chandler swallowed hard as the figured approached, all faceless, an effect created by the blinding lights behind them.
"Peter, what happened?"
"I honestly don't know, sir," Chandler replied nervously.
"Where's Frank?"
"In Moscow. Listen, I'm sure that once he returns, we can get this whole thing cleared up," Chandler said quickly.
"My sources tell me some of the wreckage was recovered by the United States Navy. This is unacceptable, Peter," Mr. Krovomski said gravely.
"I--I know, sir."
"I'm going to ask you to do me a favour, Peter."
"Yes, yes, anything," Chandler said hopefully.
"Give your father a message. Tell him that next time, I won't be so forgiving. Next time, his son will not survive this meeting," The overweight Belarussian walked away, as the other three men approached Chandler menacingly.
He only remembered being punched two or three times, before everything faded to black.
***
~London, England~
Monica sat in the centre of her small Notting Hill flat, absorbing the silence. She had never felt so alone in her entire life. She looked at her new American passport. The photograph was typical of a passport photo--it was horrible. Her fingers ran over the name and address, as she struggled to remember the details of her new life. Name: Kristin Enea. Address: 987 Cherry Creek Boulevard, Denver, Colorado 80228. Age: 28.
Monica sighed. Chandler had created a totally different identity for her, and, as a result, she would have to wear green contacts whenever she went out. She had cut her hair, and dyed it burgandy. She had just moved to London from Denver--she even had a used plane ticket from Denver International to Gatwick. She was working in an advertising agency in London. She wondered if Chandler had altered his appearance when he'd become Chandler Bing. It didn't matter. She pulled out the photo he'd given her before she'd left. He was all that she wanted. She suddenly realized that she didn't want to live in London, alone and with a different name. She wanted to be with Chandler, even if that meant dying with him before they were supposed to. She placed the photo back into her bag, and grabbed her jacket.
If she was going to disappear into the world, he was coming with her.
If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Eight
"Forgive Everything, Forget Nothing"
"Monica, we need to talk."
"Ch-Chandler. You were right," Chandler approached Monica, and saw that she was trembling.
"What happened?" Chandler's face flushed with sudden anger and panic.
"Your father...he was...hitting one of the maids. Oh, Chandler, I'm sorry I didn't believe you. You said he was dangerous...but he was so sweet to me, and-and I just wanted..." Monica began swallowing her breath, trying to control her panicked sobs.
"Shh, it's okay," Chandler sat next to Monica, and wrapped his arms protectively around her, letting her sob into his chest. He stroked her back until she stopped trembling, and pulled away from him.
"Chandler, why did you leave here before? Did he hurt you?" Monica looked at Chandler, her fear and sadness evident on her face. It made Chandler's heart ache.
"No. He's never really...look, it's a long story, Mon." Chandler suddenly felt very tired. He took Monica's hand in his, and looked into her eyes. "Listen to me. I don't want you to get hurt. And I know that things haven't been good between us lately, and I feel like I owe you an explaination, because I know that it's my fault," Chandler took a deep breath, and gave Monica's hands a reassuring squeeze before continuing. "The truth is...I've been trying to, uh, find a way to get you out of here for a long time. Tonight, before you told me about Frank, my intention was to tell you that I no longer loved you, so that you would leave. But looking at you right now," Chandler chuckled lightly, "I would have never gotten through it. Monica, my job...it's not very safe, and it's not very legal. That's all I can tell you. I have to stay here. If I screw up, or if I try to leave, Frank will come after you. I will not let that happen, that I promise you. Mon, you can't stay here. I am asking you to please, please leave."
Monica looked at Chandler in shock. She didn't realize how bad it was. She didn't want to leave, she wanted more than anything to stay with Chandler, to make sure that nothing bad happened to him. But she could see the desperation in his eyes, and the pleading. She knew that if she stayed, Chandler would be forever bound to Frank's every wish. She could see now that he was a prisoner here, and that her being here only raised the stakes of whatever game Frank had Chandler playing. So she did the only thing she could do. And she did it, because she loved Chandler more than anything. She agreed to leave him.
*
Chandler explained to Monica that she would have to play it cool for a few more weeks, while he worked to ensure her safety. Monica was devastated, but understanding when Chandler told her she could not go back to New York. She would be endangering herself, and their friends by doing so. Chandler told Monica that she would have to begin a completely different life, much like he had to when he left at thirteen.
While Monica continued to decorate the house as though nothing had happened, Chandler worked with Thomas and Francesco to create a safe haven for Monica. Ironically, Monica would be sent to London. Chandler smiled, when he thought about how much that city meant to the two of them. His smile faded when he realized they would never be able to create new memories together. Chandler wondered if Monica would eventually move on. If she would marry, and have children one day, and if she would eventually forget about him.
"Chandler? Are you okay?" Thomas interrupted Chandler's disturbing train of thought.
"Yeah. I'm just...I want to go with her. I want to be with her. I hate this," Chandler sighed.
"Well, maybe we should work on getting you out to," Thomas suggested.
"There's no way. Frank would come after me again. I couldn't put Mon through that."
Thomas nodded silently. Inside, his wheels were turning. He still thought that there could be a way.
*
The night approached much more quickly than Chandler and Monica had wanted it to. Frank was out of town on business, and it was the perfect opportunity to sneak Monica out. She would leave with Francesco at dawn. Chandler would make up a story that he and Monica had fought, and that she admitted to not loving him, and that she left, and he had no idea where she'd gone. Frank may try to look for her, that much Chandler knew. But he also knew that Frank would probably be relieved that Monica was gone. That night, Chandler and Monica took dinner in their room, determined to make their last few hours together count. Neither one of them ate. They sat together, on the sofa, curled up in each others arms, hoping that their goodbye's wouldn't be forever. They talked about their past, about London, and about the others. They talked about their secret relationship, and the chaotic day when everyone found out. They talked about everything but the future. They didn't want to think about a future without one another. They made love until the first light of the day began to show itself. Chandler tried to will the sun to stay out of the sky, but knew it was futile. Monica reluctenly dressed, and packed one small bag. It contained a copy of the photo Chandler had hid away from Frank, and a few toiletries. Her life as Monica Geller was about to end. Her obituary had already run in every paper in New York. Chandler walked her to the door, and kissed her deeply, not wanting to let go, but knowing he had to, when Francesco cleared his throat.
"I love you," he whispered into her hair.
"I love you too. Always."
He watched Monica walk toward the van, the very van that had brought her to him. She turned back only once, the morning light revealing her latest set of tears, and then, just like that, she was gone.
***
~New York City~
It was a sunny Sunday morning, yet the four people who sat inside Central Perk looked as gloomy as a rainy day. It had been Rachel who had discovered the article this time. She was flipping through the New York Times early that morning, and came upon a small blurb with a headline that read, "New York Couple Among Dead In Hawaiian Boating Accident". Rachel scanned the article, her eyes reluctently landing on two very familiar names. The article raised more questions than it did answers. Why had Chandler, and later Monica, been abducted? Why were they in Hawaii? Why hadn't they called to say they were together? Were they really dead, or was it another strange cover story? No one wanted to accept that Monica and Chandler were really dead. But if they weren't, where were they?
It was a question that would hang over their heads for a very long time.
***
~Prague~
The merchandise had been destroyed en route. Chandler had to be the one to tell the client. Frank was still in Moscow, his flight back to Prague delayed due to poor weather. Chandler went to the warehouse alone, not wanting to get anyone else involved. But the idea that he'd have to explain this screw-up to a man who he barely knew, scared Chandler. His stomach was doing flips, and he was sweating.
The call regarding the merchandise had come about six hours after Monica had left. Chandler was devastated, but knew that her safety, especially over the first few weeks, would depend on him doing his job. So he took the call, and was horrified to discover that everything had gone so horribly wrong. He'd called the client, Mr. Krovomski, and had agreed to meet him at the warehouse at midnight.
It was now 12:15.
Chandler paced the grounds nervously, not sure how long he should wait. At about 12:25, a car pulled into the yard, and came to a stop in front of Chandler. The headlights shone like a spotlight, illuminating the side of the warehouse, and forcing Chandler to squint, as he watched not one, but four figures emerge from the still-running vehicle. Chandler swallowed hard as the figured approached, all faceless, an effect created by the blinding lights behind them.
"Peter, what happened?"
"I honestly don't know, sir," Chandler replied nervously.
"Where's Frank?"
"In Moscow. Listen, I'm sure that once he returns, we can get this whole thing cleared up," Chandler said quickly.
"My sources tell me some of the wreckage was recovered by the United States Navy. This is unacceptable, Peter," Mr. Krovomski said gravely.
"I--I know, sir."
"I'm going to ask you to do me a favour, Peter."
"Yes, yes, anything," Chandler said hopefully.
"Give your father a message. Tell him that next time, I won't be so forgiving. Next time, his son will not survive this meeting," The overweight Belarussian walked away, as the other three men approached Chandler menacingly.
He only remembered being punched two or three times, before everything faded to black.
***
~London, England~
Monica sat in the centre of her small Notting Hill flat, absorbing the silence. She had never felt so alone in her entire life. She looked at her new American passport. The photograph was typical of a passport photo--it was horrible. Her fingers ran over the name and address, as she struggled to remember the details of her new life. Name: Kristin Enea. Address: 987 Cherry Creek Boulevard, Denver, Colorado 80228. Age: 28.
Monica sighed. Chandler had created a totally different identity for her, and, as a result, she would have to wear green contacts whenever she went out. She had cut her hair, and dyed it burgandy. She had just moved to London from Denver--she even had a used plane ticket from Denver International to Gatwick. She was working in an advertising agency in London. She wondered if Chandler had altered his appearance when he'd become Chandler Bing. It didn't matter. She pulled out the photo he'd given her before she'd left. He was all that she wanted. She suddenly realized that she didn't want to live in London, alone and with a different name. She wanted to be with Chandler, even if that meant dying with him before they were supposed to. She placed the photo back into her bag, and grabbed her jacket.
If she was going to disappear into the world, he was coming with her.