AN: Okay, yes, Chandler is dying, and yes this is a C/M fic. I know,
weird, huh? I promise it'll get better. Not much going on in this
chapter, just so you know.
Oh, and Sal, Ewan is having a great time here in San Francisco, ha!
~A Very Good Year~
Chapter Three: Some Days Are Better Than Others
February
The winter wind pushed it's way through the layers of cotton and wool, and sent a chill down Chandler's spine, as he made his way down the freshly shoveled New York streets. The storm had been a fierce one, but the result was a sparkling blanket of fresh snow, that made the city look like a wonderland. Chandler stood at the crosswalk, took a deep breath, and watched as his exhalation produced plumes of white mist. It was little things like this that made Chandler realize that he belonged here in New York. It was rare to see one's own breath in Los Angeles, particularly in the middle of the day.
The light turned, and Chandler stepped off the curb and onto the street. He didn't even mind the crowds that surrounded him-it was better than wasting away in a traffic jam! Chandler hopped up onto the curb, and strolled into the food market.
It had taken him about an hour to convince Monica that he would be just fine, going to the store alone. Ever since she witnessed him black out last month, she had been overprotective to the max, and the result was stifling. Chandler could barely cross a room without Monica jumping up and insisting that she do whatever-it-was-he-was-going-to-do. Chandler would roll his eyes, pout, or make a face, indicating to Monica that he was fine! Let him do it! God forbid he should go out into the cold alone. He was already dying-what's the worst that could happen?
The warmth of the store hit Chandler as he entered, and he sighed contently and unraveled his scarf. He strolled down the middle aisle, temporarily forgetting why he was there, as he became absorbed in the normalcy of the moment. Being here, alone, was like a small sanctuary for him. No one here knew he was sick, no one knew he had only months left to live. As a result, he got no sympathetic smiles, or over exaggerated gestures of love and affection. Here, he was a normal guy, on a normal day.
Everything was wonderful.
Chandler rarely paid attention to the elevator "Muzak" that played softly on the store speakers. Sometimes, an old tune would come on that he would recognize and hum along to, but for the most part, he ignored the music. But the familiar notes that surrounded him on this day did not make him hum. In fact, they stopped him dead in his tracks, one hand extended and sitting on a loaf of bread, the other holding the small red basket he'd picked up moments earlier.
The tune was eerily familiar. He had danced to this tune once.
~Three Years Earlier~
"Everyone is looking at us," Chandler mumbled miserably.
"Of course they are, honey," Anna laughed, "We are the bride and groom after all."
"I told you I can't dance. And these shoes are sliding all over the place."
"Shhh. Just live for the moment, Chandler."
~Present day~
A hundred memories hit him at once, from the day of the wedding, to the day Sadie was born. Then, like a dark cloud, Chandler's mind wandered to the last day he saw Anna alive.
~Two years earlier~
"We're outta milk," Chandler said into the telephone, as he bounced a crying Sadie on his shoulder.
"Okay, well, I'll stop into Andronico's and get some. Did you check her diaper? Maybe she's wet."
"Uh, it could be worse than wet," Chandler groaned.
"You are such a baby!"
"Yeah, well.hurry home, your daughter needs you." Chandler waited for his wife to retort.
"Anna?"
"Chandler, get you cell phone and call the police.there's a guy at the register with a gun," Anna whispered.
"Anna, get out of there," Chandler was already halfway out the front door.
"Anna?"
There was yelling, then a scream, and what sounded like gunshots. Chandler strapped Sadie into her car seat, and sped down toward the food mart.
*
She was on the ground, on her back. Her hair was splayed out around her head. The police were already there. The ambulance was speeding down the street. She smiled slightly, before her last breath escaped her lips.
~Present Day~
"Excuse me, are you going to buy the bread, or just fondle it?" Chandler turned to see a young woman looking at him strangely.
"Sorry---uh---sorry," Chandler muttered, and made his way down the aisle.
~*~
Twenty minutes later, Chandler walked back out into the cold, but this time, the bitter wind made him cringe. He walked swiftly back to the apartment, knowing that there was only one thing he wanted to do at the moment.
*
The apartment was warm, and it smelled like something wonderful. Chandler walked in to see Monica at the stove, stirring something that bubbled in a large pot.
"There you are. I was gonna send Joey out to---"
"Where's Sadie?"
"She's asleep. Chandler, are you okay?"
"Yeah," Chandler said absently, as he dropped the shopping bags on the table, and headed into the guest room.
Sadie was sleeping peacefully, her cheeks slightly flush, and her hair in tangles around her face. Chandler knelt next to the bed, and laid his head on his daughters sleeping form. He listened to her breathe for a few minutes more, before kissing the top of her head, and heading back out into the living room.
Monica was standing just outside the door, her face revealing her concern. Chandler closed the door softly behind him, and looked at Monica for a moment, before heading to the sofa to sit down-why was he so exhausted all of the sudden?
"Chandler, are you sure you're okay?" Monica's voice was shaky.
"Yeah," Chandler sighed, and motioned for Monica to join him. She sat down and looked at him silently for a moment.
Chandler smiled, in an attempt to alleviate Monica's concern for him. She smiled back, and Chandler pulled her into a hug.
"Some days are better than others," he whispered softly into her hair.
~*~
Some days are dry, some days are leaky
Some days come clean, other days are sneaky
Some days take less, but most days take more
Some slip through your fingers and onto the floor
Some days you're quick, but most days you're speedy
Some days you use more force than is necessary
Some days just drop in on us
Some days are better than others
Some days it all adds up
And what you got is not enough
Some days are better than others
Some days are slippy, other days sloppy
Some days you can't stand the sight of a puppy
Your skin is white but you think you're a brother
Some days are better than others
Some days you wake up with her complaining
Some sunny days you wish it was raining
Some days are sulky, some days have a grin
And some days have bouncers and won't let you in
Some days you hear a voice
Taking you to another place
Some days are better than others
Some days are honest, some days are not
Some days you're thankful for what you've got
Some days you wake up in the army
And some days it's the enemy
Some days are work, most days you're lazy
Some days you feel like a bit of a baby
Lookin' for Jesus and His mother
Some days are better than others
Some days you feel ahead
You're making sense of what she said
Some days are better than others
Some days you hear a voice
Taking you to another place
Some days are better than others
("Some Days Are Better Than Others", U2)
Oh, and Sal, Ewan is having a great time here in San Francisco, ha!
~A Very Good Year~
Chapter Three: Some Days Are Better Than Others
February
The winter wind pushed it's way through the layers of cotton and wool, and sent a chill down Chandler's spine, as he made his way down the freshly shoveled New York streets. The storm had been a fierce one, but the result was a sparkling blanket of fresh snow, that made the city look like a wonderland. Chandler stood at the crosswalk, took a deep breath, and watched as his exhalation produced plumes of white mist. It was little things like this that made Chandler realize that he belonged here in New York. It was rare to see one's own breath in Los Angeles, particularly in the middle of the day.
The light turned, and Chandler stepped off the curb and onto the street. He didn't even mind the crowds that surrounded him-it was better than wasting away in a traffic jam! Chandler hopped up onto the curb, and strolled into the food market.
It had taken him about an hour to convince Monica that he would be just fine, going to the store alone. Ever since she witnessed him black out last month, she had been overprotective to the max, and the result was stifling. Chandler could barely cross a room without Monica jumping up and insisting that she do whatever-it-was-he-was-going-to-do. Chandler would roll his eyes, pout, or make a face, indicating to Monica that he was fine! Let him do it! God forbid he should go out into the cold alone. He was already dying-what's the worst that could happen?
The warmth of the store hit Chandler as he entered, and he sighed contently and unraveled his scarf. He strolled down the middle aisle, temporarily forgetting why he was there, as he became absorbed in the normalcy of the moment. Being here, alone, was like a small sanctuary for him. No one here knew he was sick, no one knew he had only months left to live. As a result, he got no sympathetic smiles, or over exaggerated gestures of love and affection. Here, he was a normal guy, on a normal day.
Everything was wonderful.
Chandler rarely paid attention to the elevator "Muzak" that played softly on the store speakers. Sometimes, an old tune would come on that he would recognize and hum along to, but for the most part, he ignored the music. But the familiar notes that surrounded him on this day did not make him hum. In fact, they stopped him dead in his tracks, one hand extended and sitting on a loaf of bread, the other holding the small red basket he'd picked up moments earlier.
The tune was eerily familiar. He had danced to this tune once.
~Three Years Earlier~
"Everyone is looking at us," Chandler mumbled miserably.
"Of course they are, honey," Anna laughed, "We are the bride and groom after all."
"I told you I can't dance. And these shoes are sliding all over the place."
"Shhh. Just live for the moment, Chandler."
~Present day~
A hundred memories hit him at once, from the day of the wedding, to the day Sadie was born. Then, like a dark cloud, Chandler's mind wandered to the last day he saw Anna alive.
~Two years earlier~
"We're outta milk," Chandler said into the telephone, as he bounced a crying Sadie on his shoulder.
"Okay, well, I'll stop into Andronico's and get some. Did you check her diaper? Maybe she's wet."
"Uh, it could be worse than wet," Chandler groaned.
"You are such a baby!"
"Yeah, well.hurry home, your daughter needs you." Chandler waited for his wife to retort.
"Anna?"
"Chandler, get you cell phone and call the police.there's a guy at the register with a gun," Anna whispered.
"Anna, get out of there," Chandler was already halfway out the front door.
"Anna?"
There was yelling, then a scream, and what sounded like gunshots. Chandler strapped Sadie into her car seat, and sped down toward the food mart.
*
She was on the ground, on her back. Her hair was splayed out around her head. The police were already there. The ambulance was speeding down the street. She smiled slightly, before her last breath escaped her lips.
~Present Day~
"Excuse me, are you going to buy the bread, or just fondle it?" Chandler turned to see a young woman looking at him strangely.
"Sorry---uh---sorry," Chandler muttered, and made his way down the aisle.
~*~
Twenty minutes later, Chandler walked back out into the cold, but this time, the bitter wind made him cringe. He walked swiftly back to the apartment, knowing that there was only one thing he wanted to do at the moment.
*
The apartment was warm, and it smelled like something wonderful. Chandler walked in to see Monica at the stove, stirring something that bubbled in a large pot.
"There you are. I was gonna send Joey out to---"
"Where's Sadie?"
"She's asleep. Chandler, are you okay?"
"Yeah," Chandler said absently, as he dropped the shopping bags on the table, and headed into the guest room.
Sadie was sleeping peacefully, her cheeks slightly flush, and her hair in tangles around her face. Chandler knelt next to the bed, and laid his head on his daughters sleeping form. He listened to her breathe for a few minutes more, before kissing the top of her head, and heading back out into the living room.
Monica was standing just outside the door, her face revealing her concern. Chandler closed the door softly behind him, and looked at Monica for a moment, before heading to the sofa to sit down-why was he so exhausted all of the sudden?
"Chandler, are you sure you're okay?" Monica's voice was shaky.
"Yeah," Chandler sighed, and motioned for Monica to join him. She sat down and looked at him silently for a moment.
Chandler smiled, in an attempt to alleviate Monica's concern for him. She smiled back, and Chandler pulled her into a hug.
"Some days are better than others," he whispered softly into her hair.
~*~
Some days are dry, some days are leaky
Some days come clean, other days are sneaky
Some days take less, but most days take more
Some slip through your fingers and onto the floor
Some days you're quick, but most days you're speedy
Some days you use more force than is necessary
Some days just drop in on us
Some days are better than others
Some days it all adds up
And what you got is not enough
Some days are better than others
Some days are slippy, other days sloppy
Some days you can't stand the sight of a puppy
Your skin is white but you think you're a brother
Some days are better than others
Some days you wake up with her complaining
Some sunny days you wish it was raining
Some days are sulky, some days have a grin
And some days have bouncers and won't let you in
Some days you hear a voice
Taking you to another place
Some days are better than others
Some days are honest, some days are not
Some days you're thankful for what you've got
Some days you wake up in the army
And some days it's the enemy
Some days are work, most days you're lazy
Some days you feel like a bit of a baby
Lookin' for Jesus and His mother
Some days are better than others
Some days you feel ahead
You're making sense of what she said
Some days are better than others
Some days you hear a voice
Taking you to another place
Some days are better than others
("Some Days Are Better Than Others", U2)