Okay, so here it is. The story is gonna seem very unlikely, but the theory was working in my head up until about two days ago. Let's just all keep in mind that this is fanFICTION, kay? Thanks.
Uh, it's been a while since I've actually put down a disclaimer, so, uh...I own no original Friends characters.
*****
Haunted, Chapter Three
"Found"
~1998~
"I don't want a party," Phoebe declared to Monica and Rachel, as she walked into their apartment.
"What? What are you talking about, Pheebs?" Rachel tried to play innocent--unsuccessfully.
"This guy I was massaging owns a casino in Atlantic City...he gave me a bunch of free room vouchers!"
"Wow! Pheebs, that's so cool! So, you wanna go to Atlantic City for your birthday?"
"Hell yeah, I do! We can leave tonight."
"Great! I'm gonna go pack, Pheebs, can you go tell the guys?" Monica asked.
"I'm on it! Atlantic City Baybee!!"
*
"Okay, camera-check, sunglasses-check, wallet-check...hey Rach, you ready?" Monica called into the other room.
"Almost!" Rachel called from her bedroom.
"Hey," Joey said, as he came into the apartment, "Has Chandler stopped by?"
"No, why?"
"I don't think he's come home from work yet," Joey said.
"Really? That's odd. Did you call him?"
"Yeah, I left, like, four messages with his assistant. But I think she's a temp cuz she sounded young."
"Weird. Well, I guess we can leave him a note," Monica shrugged, knowing that Ross would be eager to get out on the road before dark.
"Yeah. A note for what?" Joey asked.
"I'll write the note, you just go pack," Monica ushered Joey out the door, shaking her head.
***
~2013~
Chandler sighed and pulled out his wallet. It was getting late, and he knew he had to get home. He pulled out a five dollar bill and set it on the table, before replacing his wallet into his pocket and pulling on his jacket. He turned just in time to see Ursula walking into the coffee shop. He looked down, trying to figure out whether or not he should say hello. He really didn't know Ursula all that well, but he felt like he should at least acknowledge her, instead of taking off like he did the other day. He looked up again and nearly fell to the floor when he saw that Ursula was not alone. He felt his heart jump into his throat, as he stood, rooted to the floor.
Phoebe and Monica made their way into Central Perk, and shook off their jackets.
"Wow, it's been a while, huh?" Monica whispered sadly.
"It has," Phoebe said, scanning the room for an available table. Her eyes fell upon a familiar face, and this time, Phoebe knew she wasn't seeing things. It was Chandler. And he looked like he'd seen a ghost.
***
~1998~
"Maybe I should stay behind and wait for Chandler," Monica suggested.
"I thought you were mad at him?" Rachel said.
"Yeah, but it was a lame fight. I mean, I don't like the idea of him having to come up to Atlantic City alone."
"Yeah, well, what if he decided he doesn't want to come? I mean, maybe he'll have to work on Monday," Phoebe reasoned.
"I have to work on Monday," Monica said.
"Yeah, but not until Monday night," Phoebe argued.
"Fine. But I am gonna leave the hotel number, in case he wants me to come back," Monica relented.
*
Chandler sat in the meeting, listening to his boss drone on and on about "profit margins" and "fiscal growth". It took all of Chandler's concentration just to keep his eyes open. He peeked at his watch again, and was horrified to see that the hands hadn't moved--or if they had, it was impossible to tell. 8:45. There had to be something illegal about keeping him here this long. Chandler rolled his eyes as Doug flipped to the next page of his notebook, and began his next sentence with, "And now, on to fiscal year 1999..." It was going to be a long night.
***
~2013~
"Oh. My. God." was all Phoebe managed to mutter. Monica looked at her strangely, then followed her gaze. Monica felt all of the blood rush into her head. It couldn't be him. They had told them he was dead. But it looked just like him. Monica swallowed hard, her eyes glued to the man standing just a few feet away. The look on his face told her that it was, in fact, Chandler Bing. But before she could force herself to respond, the room around her went black.
Chandler watched as a woman that could only be Monica passed out onto the thinly carpeted cafe floor. He forced himself out of shock and approached the woman that, only seconds earlier, he had assumed to be Ursula.
"Ph-Phoebe?" Chandler stuttered.
"Chandler. Uh, help me get Monica to the couch."
"Yeah, sure," Chandler picked Monica up and followed Phoebe to the recently vacated orange sofa.
"I can't believe this thing is still here," Chandler muttered as he set down Monica.
"Yeah," Phoebe replied blankly. Inside she was completely frazzled. She had a million questions for Chandler, the most prevelant being--where had he been for the past fifteen years?
"Mon? Monica?" Chandler shook Monica gingerly, his mind in a whirl. She was alive--they were alive. He wondered if they were all okay. He wondered where they had been that night, and the following, horrific day. He wondered if they had looked for him. He watched as Monica stirred, and opened her eyes slowly.
"Chandler," she moaned quietly, then stretched slowly, "I had the weirdest dream."
***
~1998~
Chandler walked back to his office, and grabbed his jacket and briefcase. The faster he could get out of there, the better. He hoped that Doug wouldn't try to corner him into another asinine conversation. One thing was for sure-he was NOT coming in on Monday.
He hopped onto the elevator and hit the 'L' button. He glanced at his watch, and saw that it was almost ten. He hoped Monica wouldn't be mad that he hadn't called. Phoebe's party was tonight, and was most likely in full swing. Not that it was a huge thing--it was only going to be the six of them. But he knew that Monica was never thrilled when he was running late--and he was already in the doghouse with her over the whole 'not taking her side on everything' fiasco. He sighed and stepped off of the elevator. He stopped at a corner pay phone and called Monica's, figuring everyone would already be there. He was surprised when an unfamiliar voice came on the line, stating that "the number you have dialled has been disconnected". Weird. Could he have gotten the number wrong? He decided to try it again, and was shocked to get the same result. He shook his head, trying to some up with a logical reason that Monica and Rachel's phone would be disconnected. He dialled his home number to see if maybe, by chance, Joey was in their apartment. He received the same message-their phone was disconnected. What the hell was going on? Chandler jogged down the stairs toward the subway, trying to get home as soon as possible.
***
~2013~
"Uh, Mon," Chandler started, "You-you're not dreaming. Though I am wondering if I am."
Monica sat up and shook the cobwebs from her head. She stared at Chandler, as she tried to process what was in front of her. Chandler was definitely there, or at least an older version of him. But age suited him well, she thought. After a minute of silent staring, Monica cleared her throat and cocked her head to the side.
"Chandler, we thought you were dead," she whispered, as if she was afraid to speak too loudly to him.
"Funny, I thought the same thing about you," Chandler laughed uncomfortably. "Ross, Rachel and Joey--are they, uh, are they okay?"
"Yeah, they're fine. Chandler, where have you been? How is it that we haven't seen you for fifteen years?"
"I was just about to ask you the same," Chandler whispered hoarsely.
***
~1998~
Chandler stepped off of the subway and walked up and out of the station. The night air had a bit of a nip to it, so he tightened his jacket around him, and began the three block walk to his apartment building. As he made his way down the street, he noticed that it smelled awful. He turned the corner to his street, and that was when he saw it. His jaw dropped in horror as his eyes fell onto the blackened, smoldering mess where his building once stood. He ran toward the building, and saw that the fire was not completely contained. He ran toward what used to be the enterance, dropping his briefcase in a pile of ash.
"Sir, you can't be here," a fireman yelled from behind Chandler.
"Where--what happened?"
"Gas main blew," the fireman said, pulling Chandler from the rubble.
"Where, um, were there any survivors?"
"It doesn't look good. The bottom two floors went pretty quick. Did you live here?"
But Chandler wasn't listening. He backed away from the scene, his mind in a haze and his heart hurting. He turned on his heel and ran away from the building, and never looked back.
*
~Atlantic City~
"Rach, our phone lines are disconnected," Monica said, as she hung up the phone in their hotel room.
"That's weird. Did you try Chandler and Joey's?"
"Yeah, their's is disconnected too."
"Maybe they are doing something to the lines," Rachel reasoned.
"Yeah. I just wish Chandler would call. He should have been home by now," Monica looked at her watch. It read 11:30.
"Chandler should have been home by noon," Rachel laughed, noting the lax hours that Chandler tended to keep.
"Yeah," Monica said nervously.
"Mon, he's probably on his way up here. Don't worry about it."
Monica nodded, and smiled, knowing that Rachel was probably right. But she couldn't help feeling like something was wrong.
*
Chandler stopped at Ross' and Phoebe's, hoping that his friends had taken emergency refuge, and that they were fine. To his dismay, the apartments were dark and empty, an ominous sign that they too, had perished in the sudden explosion. Chandler fought off the painful thoughts that were floating through his mind, as he made his way back toward his office building.
He had nowhere else to go.
Chandler arrived in California fourteen hours later, completely drained both emotionally and physically. He was met at the gate by his mother, who took his hand, and guided him to her limo.
"Sweetheart, you need to eat something," Nora said softly. Chandler had called her from his office several hours earlier, in a panic. She immediately bought him a plane ticket, and ordered him to fly out ASAP. Chandler left a resignation note for Doug, before taking a cab to the LaGuardia to await his flight. The faster he got out of New York, the better.
"I'm not hungry," Chandler mumbled, sinking down into the leather seat.
"Sweetheart, I am so sorry," Nora whispered softly, her words lost on him. She could see in his eyes that he was not there. She sighed and took his hand, hoped that he would be able to recover from this.
She had a horrible feeling he never would.
*
"I'm leaving," Monica announced to her friends the following morning.
"What? We just got here!" Joey whined.
"I'm worried about Chandler. He never called last night, and he never showed up here. I can't have fun if I'm worried. I'm sorry, Pheebs."
"No, hey, it's okay, I understand. Ya know what? Maybe we should just do this some other time."
"No, Pheebs, you guys stay. I'll give you a call when I find out what's going on, I promise."
"Okay," Phoebe shrugged.
*
Monica stepped out of the taxi, her eyes wide with shock. Their building was gone-nothing more than a foundation stood in the blackened rubble. Immediately, Monica's mind whirled--Chandler. She wandered the perimeter of the site, looking for any clue that may help her.
"Can I help you, Miss?" an older man, dressed in a Fire Inspector's uniform stood behind her.
"Yeah, I , uh, I live here...er, I used to live here."
"Oh. Wow, we, uh, didn't think anyone survived. The fire was bad--it burned too hot to preserve much in the way of clues. You lookin' for something in particular?"
"Someone, actually," Monica said sadly.
"Oh. Well, I'm sorry. We didn't find much. We were able to make a few ID's, seeing that some personal items were blown out of the windows in the explosion. Would you like to take a look at those?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess," Monica said softly. The inspector led Monica to a white van, parked a half a block away from the building. He opened the back doors, and backed away, letting her scan the few items that survived. She felt her throat close up when she saw the remains of Rachel's favourite hair brush, and the end of one of Chandler's hockey sticks; the lid to one of her favourite pans; a scorched piece of 'The Shining', most likely surviving because it was in Joey's freezer at the time. Her eyes fell onto a briefcase, seemingly untouched by fire, but covered in soot. She picked it up carefully, and scanned the top for the engraving. She felt her heart lurch, as her eyes, and then her finger ran along the letters CMB. Her mind tried desperately to come up with a logical out. Maybe Chandler had forgotten his briefcase Friday morning. Maybe he had already left for Atlantic City. In the end, none of them made much sense to her. She mumbled a quick thank you to the fire inspector, and ran from the scene.
****
Okay, this was gonna be the conclusion, but if I keep writing it the way I want it to go, it'll be way too long.
I'll finish up with it soon, kay? Please review!
Uh, it's been a while since I've actually put down a disclaimer, so, uh...I own no original Friends characters.
*****
Haunted, Chapter Three
"Found"
~1998~
"I don't want a party," Phoebe declared to Monica and Rachel, as she walked into their apartment.
"What? What are you talking about, Pheebs?" Rachel tried to play innocent--unsuccessfully.
"This guy I was massaging owns a casino in Atlantic City...he gave me a bunch of free room vouchers!"
"Wow! Pheebs, that's so cool! So, you wanna go to Atlantic City for your birthday?"
"Hell yeah, I do! We can leave tonight."
"Great! I'm gonna go pack, Pheebs, can you go tell the guys?" Monica asked.
"I'm on it! Atlantic City Baybee!!"
*
"Okay, camera-check, sunglasses-check, wallet-check...hey Rach, you ready?" Monica called into the other room.
"Almost!" Rachel called from her bedroom.
"Hey," Joey said, as he came into the apartment, "Has Chandler stopped by?"
"No, why?"
"I don't think he's come home from work yet," Joey said.
"Really? That's odd. Did you call him?"
"Yeah, I left, like, four messages with his assistant. But I think she's a temp cuz she sounded young."
"Weird. Well, I guess we can leave him a note," Monica shrugged, knowing that Ross would be eager to get out on the road before dark.
"Yeah. A note for what?" Joey asked.
"I'll write the note, you just go pack," Monica ushered Joey out the door, shaking her head.
***
~2013~
Chandler sighed and pulled out his wallet. It was getting late, and he knew he had to get home. He pulled out a five dollar bill and set it on the table, before replacing his wallet into his pocket and pulling on his jacket. He turned just in time to see Ursula walking into the coffee shop. He looked down, trying to figure out whether or not he should say hello. He really didn't know Ursula all that well, but he felt like he should at least acknowledge her, instead of taking off like he did the other day. He looked up again and nearly fell to the floor when he saw that Ursula was not alone. He felt his heart jump into his throat, as he stood, rooted to the floor.
Phoebe and Monica made their way into Central Perk, and shook off their jackets.
"Wow, it's been a while, huh?" Monica whispered sadly.
"It has," Phoebe said, scanning the room for an available table. Her eyes fell upon a familiar face, and this time, Phoebe knew she wasn't seeing things. It was Chandler. And he looked like he'd seen a ghost.
***
~1998~
"Maybe I should stay behind and wait for Chandler," Monica suggested.
"I thought you were mad at him?" Rachel said.
"Yeah, but it was a lame fight. I mean, I don't like the idea of him having to come up to Atlantic City alone."
"Yeah, well, what if he decided he doesn't want to come? I mean, maybe he'll have to work on Monday," Phoebe reasoned.
"I have to work on Monday," Monica said.
"Yeah, but not until Monday night," Phoebe argued.
"Fine. But I am gonna leave the hotel number, in case he wants me to come back," Monica relented.
*
Chandler sat in the meeting, listening to his boss drone on and on about "profit margins" and "fiscal growth". It took all of Chandler's concentration just to keep his eyes open. He peeked at his watch again, and was horrified to see that the hands hadn't moved--or if they had, it was impossible to tell. 8:45. There had to be something illegal about keeping him here this long. Chandler rolled his eyes as Doug flipped to the next page of his notebook, and began his next sentence with, "And now, on to fiscal year 1999..." It was going to be a long night.
***
~2013~
"Oh. My. God." was all Phoebe managed to mutter. Monica looked at her strangely, then followed her gaze. Monica felt all of the blood rush into her head. It couldn't be him. They had told them he was dead. But it looked just like him. Monica swallowed hard, her eyes glued to the man standing just a few feet away. The look on his face told her that it was, in fact, Chandler Bing. But before she could force herself to respond, the room around her went black.
Chandler watched as a woman that could only be Monica passed out onto the thinly carpeted cafe floor. He forced himself out of shock and approached the woman that, only seconds earlier, he had assumed to be Ursula.
"Ph-Phoebe?" Chandler stuttered.
"Chandler. Uh, help me get Monica to the couch."
"Yeah, sure," Chandler picked Monica up and followed Phoebe to the recently vacated orange sofa.
"I can't believe this thing is still here," Chandler muttered as he set down Monica.
"Yeah," Phoebe replied blankly. Inside she was completely frazzled. She had a million questions for Chandler, the most prevelant being--where had he been for the past fifteen years?
"Mon? Monica?" Chandler shook Monica gingerly, his mind in a whirl. She was alive--they were alive. He wondered if they were all okay. He wondered where they had been that night, and the following, horrific day. He wondered if they had looked for him. He watched as Monica stirred, and opened her eyes slowly.
"Chandler," she moaned quietly, then stretched slowly, "I had the weirdest dream."
***
~1998~
Chandler walked back to his office, and grabbed his jacket and briefcase. The faster he could get out of there, the better. He hoped that Doug wouldn't try to corner him into another asinine conversation. One thing was for sure-he was NOT coming in on Monday.
He hopped onto the elevator and hit the 'L' button. He glanced at his watch, and saw that it was almost ten. He hoped Monica wouldn't be mad that he hadn't called. Phoebe's party was tonight, and was most likely in full swing. Not that it was a huge thing--it was only going to be the six of them. But he knew that Monica was never thrilled when he was running late--and he was already in the doghouse with her over the whole 'not taking her side on everything' fiasco. He sighed and stepped off of the elevator. He stopped at a corner pay phone and called Monica's, figuring everyone would already be there. He was surprised when an unfamiliar voice came on the line, stating that "the number you have dialled has been disconnected". Weird. Could he have gotten the number wrong? He decided to try it again, and was shocked to get the same result. He shook his head, trying to some up with a logical reason that Monica and Rachel's phone would be disconnected. He dialled his home number to see if maybe, by chance, Joey was in their apartment. He received the same message-their phone was disconnected. What the hell was going on? Chandler jogged down the stairs toward the subway, trying to get home as soon as possible.
***
~2013~
"Uh, Mon," Chandler started, "You-you're not dreaming. Though I am wondering if I am."
Monica sat up and shook the cobwebs from her head. She stared at Chandler, as she tried to process what was in front of her. Chandler was definitely there, or at least an older version of him. But age suited him well, she thought. After a minute of silent staring, Monica cleared her throat and cocked her head to the side.
"Chandler, we thought you were dead," she whispered, as if she was afraid to speak too loudly to him.
"Funny, I thought the same thing about you," Chandler laughed uncomfortably. "Ross, Rachel and Joey--are they, uh, are they okay?"
"Yeah, they're fine. Chandler, where have you been? How is it that we haven't seen you for fifteen years?"
"I was just about to ask you the same," Chandler whispered hoarsely.
***
~1998~
Chandler stepped off of the subway and walked up and out of the station. The night air had a bit of a nip to it, so he tightened his jacket around him, and began the three block walk to his apartment building. As he made his way down the street, he noticed that it smelled awful. He turned the corner to his street, and that was when he saw it. His jaw dropped in horror as his eyes fell onto the blackened, smoldering mess where his building once stood. He ran toward the building, and saw that the fire was not completely contained. He ran toward what used to be the enterance, dropping his briefcase in a pile of ash.
"Sir, you can't be here," a fireman yelled from behind Chandler.
"Where--what happened?"
"Gas main blew," the fireman said, pulling Chandler from the rubble.
"Where, um, were there any survivors?"
"It doesn't look good. The bottom two floors went pretty quick. Did you live here?"
But Chandler wasn't listening. He backed away from the scene, his mind in a haze and his heart hurting. He turned on his heel and ran away from the building, and never looked back.
*
~Atlantic City~
"Rach, our phone lines are disconnected," Monica said, as she hung up the phone in their hotel room.
"That's weird. Did you try Chandler and Joey's?"
"Yeah, their's is disconnected too."
"Maybe they are doing something to the lines," Rachel reasoned.
"Yeah. I just wish Chandler would call. He should have been home by now," Monica looked at her watch. It read 11:30.
"Chandler should have been home by noon," Rachel laughed, noting the lax hours that Chandler tended to keep.
"Yeah," Monica said nervously.
"Mon, he's probably on his way up here. Don't worry about it."
Monica nodded, and smiled, knowing that Rachel was probably right. But she couldn't help feeling like something was wrong.
*
Chandler stopped at Ross' and Phoebe's, hoping that his friends had taken emergency refuge, and that they were fine. To his dismay, the apartments were dark and empty, an ominous sign that they too, had perished in the sudden explosion. Chandler fought off the painful thoughts that were floating through his mind, as he made his way back toward his office building.
He had nowhere else to go.
Chandler arrived in California fourteen hours later, completely drained both emotionally and physically. He was met at the gate by his mother, who took his hand, and guided him to her limo.
"Sweetheart, you need to eat something," Nora said softly. Chandler had called her from his office several hours earlier, in a panic. She immediately bought him a plane ticket, and ordered him to fly out ASAP. Chandler left a resignation note for Doug, before taking a cab to the LaGuardia to await his flight. The faster he got out of New York, the better.
"I'm not hungry," Chandler mumbled, sinking down into the leather seat.
"Sweetheart, I am so sorry," Nora whispered softly, her words lost on him. She could see in his eyes that he was not there. She sighed and took his hand, hoped that he would be able to recover from this.
She had a horrible feeling he never would.
*
"I'm leaving," Monica announced to her friends the following morning.
"What? We just got here!" Joey whined.
"I'm worried about Chandler. He never called last night, and he never showed up here. I can't have fun if I'm worried. I'm sorry, Pheebs."
"No, hey, it's okay, I understand. Ya know what? Maybe we should just do this some other time."
"No, Pheebs, you guys stay. I'll give you a call when I find out what's going on, I promise."
"Okay," Phoebe shrugged.
*
Monica stepped out of the taxi, her eyes wide with shock. Their building was gone-nothing more than a foundation stood in the blackened rubble. Immediately, Monica's mind whirled--Chandler. She wandered the perimeter of the site, looking for any clue that may help her.
"Can I help you, Miss?" an older man, dressed in a Fire Inspector's uniform stood behind her.
"Yeah, I , uh, I live here...er, I used to live here."
"Oh. Wow, we, uh, didn't think anyone survived. The fire was bad--it burned too hot to preserve much in the way of clues. You lookin' for something in particular?"
"Someone, actually," Monica said sadly.
"Oh. Well, I'm sorry. We didn't find much. We were able to make a few ID's, seeing that some personal items were blown out of the windows in the explosion. Would you like to take a look at those?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess," Monica said softly. The inspector led Monica to a white van, parked a half a block away from the building. He opened the back doors, and backed away, letting her scan the few items that survived. She felt her throat close up when she saw the remains of Rachel's favourite hair brush, and the end of one of Chandler's hockey sticks; the lid to one of her favourite pans; a scorched piece of 'The Shining', most likely surviving because it was in Joey's freezer at the time. Her eyes fell onto a briefcase, seemingly untouched by fire, but covered in soot. She picked it up carefully, and scanned the top for the engraving. She felt her heart lurch, as her eyes, and then her finger ran along the letters CMB. Her mind tried desperately to come up with a logical out. Maybe Chandler had forgotten his briefcase Friday morning. Maybe he had already left for Atlantic City. In the end, none of them made much sense to her. She mumbled a quick thank you to the fire inspector, and ran from the scene.
****
Okay, this was gonna be the conclusion, but if I keep writing it the way I want it to go, it'll be way too long.
I'll finish up with it soon, kay? Please review!