A/N: Thank you for the reviews! here's the next chapter - I hope you like it.

CHAPTER THREE - Finding Out

Chandler walked around the city in a haze for the rest of the day. Nothing could shake him out of it, no thought could come close to getting rid of the particular one.

Monica.

He'd missed his meeting. His cell phone was ringing. It was probably his boss, calling to fire him. Who cared? Monica was gone. He could find another job. Or else he could sit around and drink vodka all day until he drank himself out of house and home and ended up like that alcoholic Vietnam vet that held up that sign on the corner of 42nd and Bleecker on the Upper East Side. Except he wasn't a veteran of the Vietnam war, so he'd have to hold a sign that said something like "Survived Hurricane Monica, 1999." Right. That would work. Well, he could always sell a kidney.

The phone rang again, sometime - Chandler wasn't sure, but he figured sometime in the early afternoon, because it was hot. The person called several times, but Chandler never bothered to answer. Maybe his apartment was on fire. Good. Chandler wasn't thinking straight, he was thinking crazy. He crossed a street and a horn blared. He instinctively jumped backwards, and a cab missed him by inches. The driver yelled a jumble of obscenities, but all Chandler could decipher was, "Watch where you're going, moron!"

Should have let myself get run over, he thought cynically. Chandler couldn't see the point of living anymore. He'd lost his job. His house had burned down. Okay, maybe none of those things had actually happened, but none of it could make it any worse. Monica was gone.

They should take the word shit out of the dictionary, Chandler thought. If it's there, they should take it out and replace it with "Chandler." Because that's what Chandler had felt like for the past week - shit. Worse than shit. If it was humanly possible to feel worse than worse than shit, that's where Chandler was right now.

Chandler finally wandered home sometime long after dark. Joey was sitting in his apartment, dressed in overalls. "Where the hell have you been all day?" he asked.

"I was ravaged by wolves and drowned in the Mississippi," he said sarcastically, eyeing the plaid shrit his friend was wearing. Well, at least I haven't lost my sense of humor, he thought dryly. Goddamn defense mechanism. "How was your day?"

"I had an audition, but -it's almost ten-thirty, Chandler! I've been worried sick," Joey said.

"Okay, thanks, Mom, but I'm a big boy and I can take care of myself in the big scary city," Chandler said. Ten thirty? he thought. How could it be ten-thirty? Have I been out there for more than twelve hours? Apparently he had.

"What have you been doing all day?" Joey asked.

"I saw Monica," Chandler blurted out.

"You did?" Joey said. "What did she say?"

"She ended it," Chandler said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "No explanation. Just said it was over and left."

Joey looked stunned. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry, man," Joey said. "If there's anything I can do... " Chandler smiled weakly.

"Thanks," he said. "But there isn't." He quickly walked into his bedroom.

If it was possible, saying it out loud had made Chandler feel worse. Monica had dumped him. He hadn't been able to stop her, to beg and plead or get an answer. It was just - over. Chandler had lost his girlfriend and his best friend all in the same day.

The next morning, Chandler didn't know if he could get out of bed. What was the point, anyway? What would be the good of getting up and facing the world when Monica had broken up with him? There was none. Around ten, Joey knocked on the door.

"You in there?" he asked.

"Yes," Chandler said, clearing his throat.

"Um - I think you should go over to - across the hall." Joey sounded hesitant.

"Why?" Chandler asked, sitting up quickly.

"Just - because."

Chandler didn't ask anything else. He quickly pulled on a tee-shirt and a pair of jeans, then bolted out of the room. He practically ran across the hall and knocked on the door. Rachel opened it.

"Hey," she said, opening the door all the way. There was Monica. She was sitting on the couch, and when he came in, she looked at him. "I'll leave you guys alone," Rachel said, leaving. Chandler stood by the door.

"Hi," Monica said.

"Hi."

"Um. Do you want to, um, do you want to sit down?"

"Okay," Chandler said, walking over to the couch and sitting a good two feet away from her. He was stiff and awkward. Did Monica want to see him? Or was she just putting up with him? Chandler looked at her, and saw something strange, something different.

"I'm sorry," Monica said, suddenly leaning over and hugging him. Surprised, Chandler nervously patted her back. When Monica pulled away, her eyes were red and there were tearstains on his shirt.

"Honey," he said, then realized his slip. She wasn't his girlfriend anymore - at least he didn't think so. "What's the matter?"

Monica took a deep breath. "You don't deserve any of this," she said. "What I did was stupid, and wrong, and I just - I didn't know what to do. I was scared, and I - "

Chandler interrupted, "You're getting a ahead of yourself." Monica did this often, when she was nervous or worried or had too much on her mind.

"Right. Well, I think, I think I'm just going to come out and say it." Monica swallowed, and Chandler frowned. What was going on? "I have cancer."

Chandler hadn't heard her right. That had to be it, he hadn't heard her right. "Wha - what?"

"I have breast cancer. I was diagnosed about a month and a half ago," she said quietly. "I was terrified. And I guess - I guess I was ashamed. I didn't know what to do, and I didn't want you to have to - deal with me."

"Mon - "

"Just listen," she said. "I couldn't face it. I didn't want to believe it. I was angry, because I knew it was true. I didn't want you to have to deal with having a sick girlfriend, so I tried to separate myself from you, and, well, and everyone. It was stupid, I know, but I didn't know what to do. Then you got suspicious, and I sort of freaked out. Last week, I stayed at a hotel downtown, and I just thought about everything. I was going to come home, and tell everyone, and tell you that if you didn't want to be with me anymore, I'd understand." Monica said this slowly. Chandler felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Cancer? Monica had cancer. The idea was so unbelievable. Chandler tried to digest everything else Monica had said. "That was my plan," she continued. "But then I saw you at the coffee place, and you seemed so angry. I decided it would be easier if you were mad and we ended it like that. I didn't want to break up, but I - it would be easier. For you. And me."

"Monica," Chandler said.

"Just wait. I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to do, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"Monica," Chandler said, his voice meek. "You have cancer?" Monica nodded, her eyes becoming bright. "But you - you're twenty-nine! Twenty-nine year olds don't get breast cancer. Sixty-nine year olds get breast cancer, but not - not you - "

"I know," Monica whispered. "But it - it happens."

"And you thought that I wouldn't want to be with you, because of that?" Chandler asked incredulously. "I love you, Monica. Nothing can change that. I love you so much." He took her in his arms, and she curled up into a ball. "I want to be with you forever," he said, his voice high. "How bad - how bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," Monica whispered.

"But there's got to be - something they can do," Chandler said, still refusing to accept that his girlfriend had cancer.

"The doctor said I can do chemotherapy," Monica said. "But that might not make it go away. It's bad, Chandler. They said it came on fast, that's far along - "

"No," Chandler said, holding her tightly. "No."

"Yes," Monica said. "I might only have - three years."

Chandler almost threw up. "That's not true. You are young and healthy. You're twenty-nine years old. This is 1999, they can do stuff for cancer - "

"Please don't make this harder!" Monica said quietly. "This is why it would be easier if we broke up! I don't want you to go through this!"

Chandler turned Monica's head so they were looking straight into each other's eyes. "I could never stop loving you. I will be with you forever." At this point, they both crumbled. They sat there, holding each other, crying, for minutes, maybe hours.

Monica was dying. That was why she'd disappeared, that was why she'd broken up with him - it was stupid and senseless, but Chandler could see her thought process. But everything he'd said was true. He would be with her no matter what. Nothing could make him stop loving her.

"We're going to fight this," Chandler said ferociously. "And we're going to win. You are not going to die."

"It's easier to accept it," Monica said, tears filling her eyes again. Chandler held her close to him. Accept it. He would never accept anything.

A/N: Maybe Monica wouldn't have reacted like that, but people do strange things when they are scared. And also, I'm not an expert on any medical stuff, so please bear with me. Thanks!