The One With Everyone's Point Of View

Continued from: TOW The Whirlwind Interruption

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--"Ross, come away from the window."

I heard her request, but I was far from ready to fill it. This was my sister, in the arms of the man that just months ago, hurt her. Causing her more pain than I had ever seen in her before.

I was about ready to call her just minutes earlier, to stop what was about to happen between them, but before I could even pick the phone up off its cradle, Phoebe entered Monica's apartment.

That stopped everything dead in its tracks. She was only there for a minute, and she hugged Chandler, which caused me to be curious about what was being said, but her presence stopped their kissing, and that was the bottom line.

"She's an adult, Ross. She can make her own decisions."

"Can she?" I spat out, spinning around, leaving my vigil over my sister's activities.

"You don't think she can?"

"I think her mind is clouded at the moment, ok? I just don't want to see her hurt again."

"And neither do I. None of us do. But, Ross, she loves him. And he loves her. Deep down. Beneath the fear."

I shook my head and turned back towards the window. "I swear," I muttered, "If he hurts her this time…"

"He won't."

"How do you know that?" I asked, questioning her assuredness.

"Because," Rachel offered, "He's had time alone to realize just how much he loves her. And needs her. He's back for good. You'll see."

I wasn't so sure I believed that, but I wanted to. For Monica's sake. I nodded and turned away from the window, giving my sister the privacy she didn't know was being infringed upon.

"I hope you're right," I mumbled, sitting beside Rachel as I dropped to the couch.

"I am," she reiterated, "Now, here. Have an egg roll."

*****

--He invited me over for Chinese take-out, but the friendly dinner turned itself into something of a soap opera.

He asked me over before he saw him again. Chandler. The name so familiar, yet somehow straining to say or hear.

When I showed up at Ross' door, he ushered me in quickly and, at break-net speed, filled me in on what he knew.

Chandler ran into Monica at the coffeehouse. After small talk, he left, which is when Ross entered into the situation.

He'd just walked in to get a cup of coffee, but when he saw Monica in tears, and he questioned her as to why… that was the breaking point for him, I think.

It ate away at him that she was in so much pain, as the weeks turned to months since Chandler left. We were all hurting at seeing her in such pain, but Ross took it the worst. He wanted to fix her pain, like most men, but he couldn't.

That, I think, is why he can't see this from Chandler's point of view. He just got scared. We all wondered when it was going to happen, but when month after month passed and he didn't freak out, we all just started to assume that he wouldn't.

When he did freak and leave, we thought he would snap out of it quickly and return to her. When he didn't, he just got… fazed out. With the exception of a handful of times, we never even really saw him after he left. Joey was really the only one to keep in contact with him, and he would always update us on how he was doing.

Now he was back, as I knew he would be eventually. Phoebe and I have talked about it numerous times. We all know how much Chandler loves Monica, it was just his messed up childhood and fear of commitment that caused him to run away.

They belong together. That's how I can be so sure that he won't hurt her this time. He didn't want to hurt her last time. He just wasn't thinking straight. Time was all he needed, and time was what the past six months has been about.

He's back for good this time. I know he is.

"I hope you're right," Ross mumbled, plopping down beside me.

"I am," I told him as I held up a to-go box, "Now, here. Have an egg roll."

*****

--"Of course I'll help, man!" Joey exclaimed excitedly into the phone, his smile wider than ever.

When Chandler left, Joey was heartbroken. Not just because of the pain Monica was in, and the constant sadness in her eyes, but because Chandler moved an hour away by train. That made it hard to see him and spend time with him like before.

Joey was really the only one to keep in contact with him after he left. He called pretty regularly, and whenever he had auditions near Chandler's work, he would always stop by for lunch or an after work drink.

Even though his sister's pain was hard on Ross, I think Joey took it the worst, out of all of us. He's so childlike sometimes. A quality I love about him.

"Great news!" he announced as he hung up the phone. "Chandler is moving back in with Monica! He needs my help this weekend moving his stuff!"

"So quickly?" I asked, being careful not to squash Joey's enthusiasm.

"He's moving in to the guestroom," he stated, his smile never faltering, "So they can work on their relationship and stuff!"

It seems too soon to me, but I can also understand the motivation. It's not like they're strangers moving in together, they have a deep-seeded history. Even in lives before this one.

"What's the matter?" he asked, interrupting my silent thoughts.

He could sense my worry. And people say he's not very bright. He has a wisdom I think few would understand.

"Nothing," I replied, "Just seems a little fast. To be moving in together."

"They just wanna be close to one-another, Pheebs. What's so wrong about that?"

"Nothing's wrong with it, Joseph. Just worried about them getting hurt again."

"You think he's gonna bail again?" he asked with childlike innocence and concern.

"No, I don't think that," I rushed to put his mind at ease. "Just thinking too much," I smiled.

"Thinking too much," he scoffed, "That's something I would never do!"

I forced myself not to laugh at the irony of his statement.

*****~*****

--Chandler was kneeling down, taping up one of the last boxes in his near-empty apartment. He seems happier now than he has in over six months, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked, and it made me smile wider.

"Nothing," I said as I handed him a black marking pen to mark the box with. "Just thinking."

"I thought I smelled something burning."

He always makes jokes about stuff like that. Sarcastic comments that imply I'm stupid. Sometimes they bug me, but not today. I'm just too happy about getting my best friend back.

Sure, he never left the state, but I was used to having him either living with me, or across the hall from me. An hour away by train was just too far away.

"I'm just glad you're moving back in with Monica," I told him as he stood. "I missed you."

"I saw you almost every week, Joe," he reminded me.

"I know," I shrugged, "But it wasn't the same."

--I don't think he understands just how upset I was when he moved. Ross is great and all, and so are the girls, but they're not Chandler.

Ross is more interested in dinosaur stuff and foreign films with subtitles, and Phoebe and Rachel are more interested in girl stuff. Like makeup and clothes and smelly candles or incense. And chick-flicks with no nudity, or at least no female nudity.

And Monica… well, she's been so upset since Chandler left, she's not interested in doing much of anything besides sleeping on her couch and crying.

I couldn't help her. I didn't know how, and every time I would see her she would ask me how he was doing, cause she knew I called him a lot. I never knew what to say.

I knew he was missing her. I could tell. He never actually said the words, but I could tell. The first time he asked me how she was doing, was probably the most uncomfortable I have ever been, ever. I didn't know what to say, so I told him she was just fine. That became my answer to both of them after that.

If Chandler asked how Monica was doing… 'Just fine.'

If Monica asked how Chandler was doing… 'Just fine.'

I felt like I was in the middle, almost like my parents were getting divorced and I had to split up my time between them. It was awful.

But now, Chandler's coming home. And Monica is actually smiling. And everyone is so happy. Well, everyone except Ross. He's pretty upset with Chandler for making Monica so sad. I don't blame him really. If he had done that to my sister, I would be pretty pissed. But, I also know he didn't do it on purpose.

It's almost like he has a sickness. Phoebe said it's like a phobia. Like, the fear of spiders or closets. Chandler's phobia is the fear of commitment. Phoebe says you can get over phobias and learn to live with them, and I think that's what Chandler is going to do now.

And, so, if it's a sickness, how can you stay mad at the guy? It would be like getting mad at him for having cancer or something. It's not like he chose to be this way. I think Ross will come around. At least, I hope he comes around. It would be nice to have things back the way they were.

--"I know," Chandler smiled, "I missed you, too."

He held his arms out, offering me a hug. I've never been a big hugger of guys. Kinda seems unmanly, in a way, but it never bothered me with Chandler. It's like hugging a brother.

*****

--"I think Ross hates me."

"He doesn't hate you. He just needs time to get over himself."

I'm not so sure I believe that. "Monica forgave me, why can't he?"

"Monica forgave you cause she's in love with you. Ross isn't."

"Thank God."

Rachel sighed, "Always with the jokes."

"Sorry," I apologized. "I joke when I'm nervous."

"Yeah, well, tell me something I don't know."

"Ok, Joey has tried on your underwear before."

Rachel looked shocked, and it took everything in my power not to start laughing.

"What?! Are you-- Are you serious!?"

Before I could even reply, she walked off in search of Joey.

--"Hey," Monica's voice called out, and I immediately turned to embrace her.

"Hey."

"So, almost done?"

"Yep. Just a few trash bags and these two boxes go," I pointed to the corner of the room, "And then I'm done."

I held her for several minutes, noticing that even when sweaty, she smells amazing.

"We're doing the right thing," she asked me in a whisper, taking me by surprise, "Right?"

Was she having second thoughts?

"I think so. Are you--?"

"I'm just scared," she said as she pulled away. "Ross thinks this is a big mistake. He thinks if you leave me again, it'll destroy me."

"What do you think?"

"I think he's right. If you leave me again, I don't think I'll be able to recover."

"No, what I meant was," I clarified, "Do you think I'll leave you again?"

"I don't want to think you will. But, I can't help but be a little worried."

God, I hate myself for hurting her like I did. I am determined, to do whatever it takes, to make it up to her.

I reached out to hold her, and she let me. "I promise you, Monica, the reasons for leaving six months ago no longer exist. I'm not afraid of being in love anymore."

"I'm glad you've grown," she said with quiet sadness, "But it's going to take a while for me to trust you again."

"I know," I said into her hair as I rested my head atop hers. "I know I messed up."

"It's in the past," she told me firmly. "Now, we work towards a future."

I'm amazed at how lucky I am to have her in my life. That she's forgiven me, and that I now actually have a shot at happily ever after.

I pulled back, looking at the apartment that signifies the temporary insanity I suffered six months ago, then turn my eyes to look at my future wife.

"I think- No, I know I would die inside without you," I told her truthfully.

It looked to me like she was about to cry, but no tears fell.

Eventually, she nodded and replied. "I know I would die inside without you," she admitted. "I know because I almost did."

I don't know how to respond to that, except to hold her, but she inched back, keeping eye contact, not allowing me to console her or myself.

***

--I didn't want to hurt him, but I couldn't stop myself from saying it. He hurt me, and a part of me died the day he left. I know he knows this, and I know he's sorry, but I said it again anyway.

If this is going to work, I have to let the past be the past. But, sometimes it's hard. I sometimes think I want to scream at him, but if I do, will he leave again?

"Monica?"

His voice is questioning me, but I don't have an answer for him. Still, I have to say something, right? He just tried to hold me, but I backed away. He'll want to know why.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I-- I just--"

"What?"

I am terrified to say what I'm about to say, but know I have to. I have to say it.

"Please don't hate me," I began, "But, part of me-- Part of me… hates you for what you put me through."

He hung his head, nodding slightly. I know he's sorry. Why can't I just let it go? Why do I keep having this nagging thing in the back of my mind?

"You have every right to," he finally replies, "But, is it a hate you can get over? Cause, if it's not--"

"I want to work past this. It's just going to take time." My heart is literally climbing into my throat, irritating me. "Can you understand that?"

He nodded, and I sighed with relief.

"You just tell me what you want, and I'll do it."

What do I want? I want to love him without being afraid. I want to wake up in the morning without the sense of dread that today will be the day that he'll decide to leave again.

"I just want you promise me that you won't do what you did six months ago."

"I have promised you that." He sighed, running his hands through his hair; a sign he was frustrated. "I know you're skeptical, and you have every right to be, but if we're gonna make this work, you need to have at least some trust in me."

Before I could reply, he continued.

"I know I have to earn your trust again, but, we have to start somewhere, right? You have to have at least some faith in me."

I nodded. "I know."

"So," he said as he looked down at his shoes, "Do you?"

Do I? "Do I what?"

"Have at least a little faith in me."

That was the question. That's what it all comes down to. Without faith and trust, there is nothing to build a relationship on.

I could see the panic start to show in his expression, and it was then that I realized…

"Yes, Chandler. I do."

He was visibly relieved by my words, and quickly gathered me into his arms. My wanting to scream at him, my anger, it faded as I felt his arms hold me like I was his very reason for living.

I closed my eyes, allowing a brief dream to cross my mind. Chandler and I, up at the altar, our friends and family watching with wide smiles as we said 'I do' to one another, sealing our lives together forever.

That dream used to make me sad, because I never thought I would ever see it come true. Now, it makes me happy.

THE END