The One With The Aftermath

Chapter nineteen

Continued from: 'TOW All The Pacing'

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--"I went to see your dad yesterday," Monica admitted timidly, awaiting Chandler's reaction with a sense of dread.

He looked at her blankly for a moment, like he didn't hear her correctly, but then her words sunk in. "What? You did what?!"

"I know you're upset with me--"

"You had NO right to do that, Monica! No right!"

She sighed, "I'm sorry, ok? You have every right to be angry, but, I just wanted to meet him! And then when you forbade me--"

"Which apparently means nothing because you went behind my back and did it anyway!" He turned sharply and headed for the door.

"Chandler! Don't you do it!" she snapped, aware that he was preparing to storm out. "Don't you walk out that door! I spent the last 24 hours worried sick about you! Worried sick about having this conversation with you! You are not going to disappear on me again!"

He stopped his departure at the door, turning slightly, but not facing her, his gaze planted on the ugly green rug. He wanted to just leave, and he was moments from escape, seconds from fleeing the unwanted conversation, when a thought occurred to him: he had no right passing judgement, when he was guilty of worse. He got drunk, married Phoebe, vowed to keep it from Monica forever.

"Just hear me out," Monica pleaded. "That's all I ask."

"Fine." He remained where he was, his reply cold and distant. "Talk."

"I found the ad in the yellow pages," she began. "He came out and sat with us before going on--"

"Us?" he interrupted.

She winced. "Joey went with me."

Chandler rolled his eyes dramatically. "Unbelievable!"

"I only asked Joey to come along because I didn't want to meet your father alone," she explained. "I had to bribe him, if that helps."

"With?"

"Meatball sub."

He gestured for her to continue.

"He knows so little about you, Chandler. He's tried to get in contact with you. He's sent you letters--"

"I don't want him in my life, Monica. I tore the letters up and threw them away."

"He's sorry for what he's put you through. He really is. He wanted me to tell you that."

"What did he say to you?" he grumbled, not ready to give up his anger.

She shrugged, "He mostly asked questions. He said his 'coming out' was hard on you, and that he knows he wasn't very good at handling it."

"Handling it?!" he asked with loud annoyance. "He didn't handle it! He ran away from it!"

"I know."

"Him being sorry isn't enough! He walked out on me, I have no intention of walking in to him!" He rolled his eyes when he realized the sentence did not come out the way he'd meant it to.

"I know he hurt you, Chandler, but he wants to get to know you again."

"No way."

"He wants to make amends."

"I don't care!"

"Chandler," she sighed, "Can't you at least talk to him? Just have a conversation with him, before deciding to shut him out of your life forever?"

"You don't understand, Mon."

"Then explain it to me, Chandler."

He paused for a moment, then exhaled sharply, "Why is this even so important to you, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I want to know you better. I think a lot of who you are comes from your parents."

"Unfortunately," he replied under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," he muttered as he shook his head. Her reasons for wanting to meet his father made Chandler cringe. It had been exactly what he'd been afraid of. Now, after having met him, she knew. She had to know. He was like his father. Scared of commitment. Unable to make a relationship or marriage work. Would she leave him? He was so deep in thought and worry that he didn't even realize it when tears began sliding down his face.

She saw a tear trickle down his cheek, and she gathered him into her arms to comfort him. "I'll support whatever decision you make," she told him softly, "But…" She pulled back slightly and retrieved a matchbook out of her pocket, "Here's the address of 'Viva Las GayGus'. Just in case."

Chandler took it from her hesitantly, tapping his finger on it nervously as he looked at the neon words on stark black.

"I know it won't be easy," she whispered, "But, I think you should do this."

After several minutes of him saying and doing nothing, he nodded. "Ok," he whispered, "If it means that much to you, we'll go see him."

"Don't do it for me, Chandler," she instructed, "Do it for yourself."

"Then, I choose not to go."

"Ok," she corrected herself, "You can do it for me."

He smiled just slightly. "You are so competitive. You always have to win, don't you?"

She shrugged, "I just don't like to lose."

"And if you don't lose, you…" he trailed off, looking for her to complete the sentence.

"Ok, I like winning. Doesn't everybody?"

He pulled her into his arms, "Not as much as you do." He leaned in and kissed her, almost possessively, trying to prove to himself that she was his. Trying to find proof in intimacy that she would not be leaving him.

She was taken aback by his fervency, but she kept the frenzied momentum he started, herself still wound up from the argument and stress of the situation, she returned his almost aggressive affection frantically.

"I really missed you last night," she breathed as his lips latched on to her neck.

He moaned as he grabbed and pulled at her clothes, disrobing her before stripping himself of his clothes, making love to her as much for pleasure as for stating his intentions… they belonged to each other.

*****

--Chandler and Monica walked hand-in-hand into 'Viva Las GayGus', his grip becoming tighter as the cross-dressed waiter approached.

"Ah, back again I see," he smiled at Monica, looking Chandler up and down, causing him to fidget uncomfortably. "But with a new man."

Monica smiled politely. "This is my boyfriend."

"Ah. Another straight one," he pouted, disappointed. "Pity." He led them to their table, then took their drink order.

"And could you tell Charles-- umm, I mean, Helena, that Monica is here to see him- her- him." She smiled awkwardly as an apology for not knowing how to classify him.

The waiter smiled, "Of course dear."

"Well, you seem chummy with the waiter person," Chandler snipped.

It wasn't jealousy, and Monica knew that, he was lashing out due to anxiety. "Hush," she told him, squeezing his hand. "It's going to be fine," she soothed. "And I'm right here if you need me."

He sighed, relieved to have her beside him.

When his dad came into view, he tensed up and froze, and then their eyes made contact. Monica stood, and Chandler stood at her prompt, his eyes threatening to spill the tears that had been pooling.

Helena closed the gap, approaching the table, standing before the son he hadn't seen in almost a decade. A small smile crossed his lips as he extended his hand towards Chandler…

*****

--"Hey, Pheebs!" Joey called to her across the crowded casino.

"Joey! Hey!" she greeted him excitedly. "What's up?"

"You tell me! What the hell did you and Chandler do last night?" he asked, his voice almost scolding. "And more importantly," he added, "What in the hell did you guys drink?"

She fidgeted a bit, knowing she couldn't answer him truthfully. "Well, we drank, just, lots. And then, we pretty much wandered around before going back to our room and crashing."

"Monica was all kinds of worried," he confided in her, "She kept thinking the worst."

"Like?" Phoebe asked, concerned.

He shrugged. "Like, you were staggering across the street and got hit by a car. Stuff like that."

"But, she wasn't thinking he'd go and, like, get married or anything, right?"

"Married?" he scoffed. "Who would he marry?"

She chuckled along with him so that he wouldn't become suspicious. "Right. Good question. Plus, with him being so drunk and all…" she added.

"So?" Joey questioned her. "They let you get married when you're drunk! Hell, most people who get married in Vegas are drunk!"

She smiled uneasily, trying not to give away anything by her reaction.

"Hey, you hungry?" he changed the subject, oblivious to her concern, "I know this great sub place."

"Ok. Sure," she agreed, secure in the knowledge that Joey hadn't caught on to her distress.

They headed for the door, her following his lead…

"Hey, did you know that when you get married in Vegas, it's, like, a real marriage?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Why wouldn't it be?"

She rolled her eyes in frustration, "Well, apparently everyone knows that little factoid!"

*****

--Chandler made no move to take his father's outstretched hand, instead, he just stared at the man who had become more and more a stranger to him as the years passed.

Helen dropped his hand to his side, an awkward smile crossing his face only briefly before his expression grew serious. "How are you, son?"

Monica looked between her boyfriend and his father, the tension thick. She rubbed Chandler's back for reassurance, trying to help him move past the stressfulness of the situation.

He turned to her, not looking her in the eye out of shame. "I'm sorry, I can't do this." He pushed past Monica and headed for the door without so much as even glancing back.

Monica looked at Chandler's father apologetically. "Helen, I'm so--"

"I know," he nodded, a tear streaking through his make up. "Go with him Monica."

She turned in time to see Chandler disappear out the door, then turned back to Helen. "I'm sorry."

He smiled, but Monica could tell he was hurting. She hugged him, then grabbed her purse off the nearby table and ran after Chandler.

*****

--Monica spotted him up ahead, weaving in and out of the crowd of people, and she jogged to catch up with him, calling out to him to gain his attention.

"Chandler! Chandler! Wait up!"

She wasn't sure if he'd heard her, cause he didn't stop, but after a few moments, he slowed down.

"I told you it was a mistake, Monica," he reminded her as soon as she was within earshot. "I just couldn't do it."

"What was it Chandler?" she asked, panting, "The make up? The wig?"

He rolled his eyes, looking away as he began walking briskly again. "I'm not homophobic, Mon."

"I know that, but I know his get-up is a lot to take. The man beneath all that is still your father."

"I know you want this Monica, but-- It's just not going to happen, ok?"

"Why?" Monica asked, frustrated. "Can you just answer me that? Why can't you even talk to him?"

"He is why I can't commit!" he blurted out, spinning around to face her. "He is why I run from my problems instead of facing them! He is the reason I'm a screw up!"

She sighed sadly, "Chandler…"

"I look at him, and I don't just see a man who made a mistake! A man who couldn't live with a lie any longer and therefore had to 'come out'! I see the man who is directly responsible for my fears about commitment!"

"He is not directly responsible for your fears, Chandler. Maybe indirectly--"

"I see myself when I look at him, and I don't like what I see."

"What do you see?"

"A man who is incapable of 'till death do us part'."

"You think because your father left your mother, that now you won't be able to make a marriage work?"

He shrugged, looking around at the crowd that had gathered. "This isn't street theater!" he snapped. "Move on!"

"Chandler," Monica's voice was firm, "You are not your father. He was struggling with his sexuality. Are you struggling with your sexuality?"

"No."

"Look, ok, you don't just suddenly become gay. Deep down, on some level, your father knew he was gay."

"Then why did he marry my mom?"

She shrugged, "That's something you're going to have to ask him."

Chandler looked back towards the showplace, his expression intense.

"It's time for you to stop running from this. It's time you faced your father."

He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair nervously.

"You want to go back?" she asked softly.

"Do I want to? No."

She smirked, "Will you go back?"

He turned to face her, "You'll be with me?"

"Absolutely."

"Fine," he sighed, "I'll talk to him."

*****

--Helen approached his son apprehensively. "You came back."

"I was hoping, we could talk." Chandler stammered uncomfortably.

"Sure," Helen smiled, then gestured for Chandler and Monica to take a seat.

Chandler took a deep breath, almost as if he was about to dive into deep waters, then looked his father straight in the eyes. "Why did you marry mom?"

Helen nodded, as if to say he understood this question was a long time coming. "I was trying to convince myself that I was someone I was not."

"You hurt her."

"She came out of it relatively unscathed."

"You hurt me."

"I know. And if I could take back the pain, I would."

"I don't know how to be in a relationship because of you! All I had growing up was Mom! And she was no help at all! Not as far as teaching me how to commit to someone is concerned."

"Well, Nora has issues."

"Because of you!"

Helen shook his head, "Now, that's not entirely true, Chandler. She had issues before I even married her."

"I had no role model for this! And now, I want more than anything to be able to be in a committed relationship, and I don't know how!"

"What don't you know?" Helen questioned.

"I don't know how to stop being afraid! I'm afraid I'll hurt her like you hurt Mom and I. I'm afraid of losing her, but I don't know how to keep her!"

His father chuckled and shook his head.

"Oh, glad to see my pain and torment is so amusing to you," Chandler snipped.

"Son, welcome to the wonderful world of being in love. This has nothing to do with me screwing you up. Or your mom's weird idiosyncrasies. This is what it feels like to be in love. The feeling that you want to be nowhere else but with her, but if you're with her, you could say or do something stupid and lose her."

Chandler just scowled for a moment, then shook his head, "But even before I fell in love I felt scared of commitment. Like if I tried, I would fail. And I did fail! At every relationship I tried!"

"Except this one." Helen added, glancing at Monica. "I admit that I wasn't any kind of role model for you, and maybe that planted the seed, that you would fail at relationships, because your 'ol man did. And maybe on some level you shied away from serious relationships because of it, but son, the rest is a natural reaction to being in love."

"You've psyched yourself up for failure, because I failed at my marriage with your mom," Helen continued. "Don't do that to yourself. You are not me and Monica is not your mom."

"But I don't know how to be in a relationship!"

"What's to know? You spend time with her. Love her, cherish her, and don't cheat on her. If you fight, work at resolving what caused it in the first place. And just, always take her feelings into consideration. The rest will fall into place."

"It's that simple?" Chandler asked, slightly miffed.

"Yeah," Helen nodded.

"Yep," Monica agreed, and Chandler quickly looked between the two of them. "You're making it out to be harder than it needs to be, Chandler," Monica added, "I've told you that before."

--Seeing that the walls of tension were finally broken down, Monica moved to sit at the bar while Chandler and his dad continued talking. She smiled as she saw them laugh a few times, pleased that the old wounds were started healing. When both men stood, they hugged, then shook hands, and Monica stood and approached.

Chandler put his arm around her, then smiled at his dad. "I'll see you in a few weeks then."

Helen nodded, "I'll call when I have all the flight information." He turned to Monica, "And I want to thank you, Monica. You gave me my son back."

She smiled as he hugged her in gratitude. It was just like she had envisioned, although the effort to get there was rougher than she had anticipated. Still, it was worth it. They were on their way to a new beginning.

*****

--Joey opened and closed each drawer, wanting to be sure that he didn't forget to pack anything, when he found the VHS tape. The only label on it said 'wedding memories', and he scowled as he looked at it.

"Pheebs?" he called out towards the bathroom, "What tape is this?"

"What?" Phoebe called back, not able to hear him well over the shower.

"This tape! Is it of Rachel and Ross' wedding?"

Not able to hear him, she answered the question she thought he asked. "Yeah!" she replied as she continued her shower.

Joey shrugged, confused as to why she would bring the tape along with her on vacation, then tucked it into his duffel bag.

TO BE CONTINUED…

In: 'The One Where It Finally Ends'