A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I know, I just about killed Richard as well - and I'm the one writing the fic! I'm going to admit, the characters will be a little... out of character, but that's just how it has to be!
Disclaimer: STILL don't own any of them, but I am working with Warner Bros. to get a deal signed.
CHAPTER THREE - Never
"Come again?" Chandler said, after several seconds of speechlessness. "You're not - what?"
"I'm not coming home. Ever." Monica said it so finally that it scared Chandler.
"What are you talking about? You have to come home."
"No, I don't," Monica argued. "And I'm not. I don't think I can live in the city for a long time. I can't see Richard. Things have been... so difficult lately, I just want to start over. I'm thinking about maybe moving to Virginia, or maybe even out West. Anywhere where I can start over and not have all this shit following me. I've lost Richard - what does it matter where I am now?"
"Monica, you've got to be kidding me. I know things haven't been the best lately - okay, things have sucked - but you still have all of us. Me and Ross and Rachel and Joey - "
"But Richard and Phoebe... no. I can't do it. I'm never coming home."
Chandler was angry. Angry at himself for having to be the one to have this conversation with Monica, angry at Richard and Phoebe for sleeping together and causing Monica so much pain - angry at Monica for leaving him like this.
"So you're just going to run away from you're problems, Monica? That's really mature. You're just going to escape, not face it all like a fucking grown up would." He spat the words at her huffily, realizing too late that he would regret his words.
"That's not all of it," Monica shot back. "You don't understand, Chandler."
"I don't understand? I don't understand what it's like to have your whole goddamned life fall apart around you? I know, Monica, believe me. I know it's hard to deal with. But I did it. I didn't run away from home like an angry kid. I stuck by the people who I love and I got through it!" He'd never spoken to Monica in such an angry tone. But he'd also never been this enraged.
"I thought you would understand," Monica said quietly. "I thought you would, but you don't." There was a click as she hung up.
"Monica? Monica!" he yelled into the phone. "Dammit, you talk to me right now, Monica!" The dial tone buzzed, loud and annoying, in his ear, and he threw the phone down.
Monica was gone. She'd called him to help her, and he'd just yelled. Chandler closed his eyes tightly in shame. He'd blown it. He'd blown it big time. He lay down on the couch, clenching and unclenching his fists in a wild frenzy against himself.
The phone rang again. It rang three times before he picked it up. "Hello?" he said, trying to unlock his jaw.
"It's me," Monica's soft voice said. "I'm sorry I hung up."
Chandler was in shock. "I'm - I'm sorry I yelled," he finally said in a strangled voice.
"I guess I sort of knew you'd be mad. I know you don't really understand, and I shouldn't have expected you to. But I just need someone to talk to. I need someone to listen." Monica's voice shook with tears, and Chandler felt guiltier than ever.
"I promise I won't say anymore," he said. "I promise I'll listen."
Then it all came spilling out - how Monica couldn't bear to face everyone again, couldn't stand the embarrassment a wife felt after she found her husband in bed with another woman. And with Phoebe, no less! One of her best friends! Two people she trusted with her life had betrayed her and not even cared enough to apologize.
"Phoebe did," Chandler corrected. "Phoebe said she was sorry."
Here Monica sighed again. "I know she is. That's why I don't hate her. I'm angry with her, of course, but I can't hate her. I really think I want to forgive her - just not yet. She's Phoebe. She didn't know what she was doing."
"How is that possible?" Chandler said, confused. "Did she not take her pants off - ?"
"That's not what I mean. Phoebe gets so caught up in things, she probably didn't realize how badly she was screwing up, and by the time she did, it was too late and they already had a wild affair going on." Monica sounded sad, but sure of herself. "How is she? I don't want to sound evil, or anything, but is - is she suffering? I mean, is she plagued with guilt and remorse? Is she afraid she's going to hell for her sins?"
Chandler laughed. He was happy Monica could joke about this already, but he also knew that what she was saying wasn't entirely a joke.
"I haven't seen her for about a week," he said. "But she was miserable then. She's too embarrassed to see any of us. Joey talked to her on the phone a couple of times, though, and he said she sounded awful. She talked about how sorry she was, and even about leaving the country! She really is sorry, Mon."
"Good," Monica said softly. "What about Richard?"
Chandler bit his lip. How could he tell Monica that he hadn't seen Richard looking sad or ambivalent at all? That her formerly loving husband hadn't asked where Monica was, if she was okay - even mentioned anything about being sorry for hurting her? He couldn't, so he lied. "I haven't seen him. But, Mon, who wouldn't be upset at losing you?"
Monica was satisfied. They talked for a while longer, and then Monica said she should go. Chandler argued.
"It's okay," Monica assured him. "I'll call you again. Don't worry. Oh, and Chandler... don't tell anyone what I said. If they ask if you've heard from me, just say I called, and I'm fine. I want to talk to them myself someday."
That's exactly what he did. The next day, when Ross again asked the group if they'd received any clue to Monica's whereabouts, Chandler said, "I talked to her last night, and she's perfectly fine." They pressed him for more, but he insisted that was all he'd heard.
Over the next two weeks, Monica called Chandler four more times. Every time, she told him a little more about where she was, what she planned to do, what was running through her head.
"I know I can't just leave everybody behind and act like they never existed," she said. "I love you guys so much. It's just - well, it's too painful to be in the city. The wounds are too fresh, and I think being back home would just salt them. I need some time away from everything."
"Why don't you call Ross and Rachel?" Chandler suggested. "Even though I tell them every day you're fine, they're still so worried."
"I will, eventually. For now I just like talking to you." Chandler didn't fight that anymore. He liked just talking to her too.
The next time they talked, Monica said, "I've been really lonely. If you promise not to send the troops after me, I'll tell you where I am."
Excited, Chandler said he wouldn't. "I'm just upstate," Monica explained. "My cousin Francine owns some real estate up here, and I'm in a cabin in the mountains. I was actually surprised Ross didn't figure it out and call her."
"Let me come see you," Chandler pleaded. "I swear, I won't tell anyone where you are."
"We-ell..." Monica considered this. "It would be great to see you. I really miss you, Chandler." She was silent. "All right. Come up here next weekend."
So, the next weekend, Chandler rented a car and drove 200 miles to upstate New York. He followed the hastily scribbled directions on a crumpled piece of paper, watching miles and miles of trees and forests flash by. Where the hell is this? he wondered. It's the middle of freaking nowhere.
His friends thought he was on a business trip. Monica had sworn him to secrecy.
Finally he pulled up in front of the small cabin. He nervously got out of the car. Sure, it had only been three weeks since he'd seen Monica, but it was obvious that she'd changed in ways that weren't good. She wans't his innocent, gentle friend Monica anymore. Whenever they talked about anything that had happened, Monica got a hard tone to her voice. Chandler walked up to the front door and knocked.
Monica opened it. She was wearing faded black sweats and a tee shirt that said "Read Your Own Damn Tee-Shirt," and looked like it belonged to a fourteen year old. Her hair was a mass of tangled brown strands, and her eyes were red. Still, Chandler thought in amazement, she was beautiful. How could someone who looked so miserable could also look so gorgeous? That's easy, Chandler thought without thinking. The woman you love will always look amazing.
"Hi," she said, smiling shyly and staring at her feet. Chandler looked down too and saw she was wearing one pink sock and one brown one.
"Hi," he replied. He set down his bag and tentatively opened his arms. She immediately buried herself in him, holding him as if they hadn't seen each other in a lifetime. Chandler held her as well, happy just to have her there in his arms. He kissed her hair, which smelled like strawberries and freshly ground coffee.
At last she broke apart and welcomed him in. Chandler looked around the front room of the cabin. "I'll give you the grand tour," Monica said. "This is the living room," she gestured around the room. It was furnished with a loveseat, an over-stuffed arm chair, an old rocking chair, and an end table. Next Monica led him through to the kitchen. "Here's the kitchen slash dining room." A table with two chairs was against one wall, and a stove, sink, fridge, and cabinets lined the others. "The bathroom is in here. And my room's back there." She turned to him and smiled faintly. "It's not much, but it's home, for now. Until I find a better place.''
"Mon, you're not actually going to stay here, are you?" Chandler burst out. He hadn't meant to bring up that, hadn't meant for the anger they'd tactfully avoided discussing to resurface, but he couldn't stop it.
"I like it up here," Monica said simply.
"Why? No offense, but the 'town' you said I'd pass through consisted of a gas station and an outhouse," Chandler said, putting the ever-popular air quotes around the word 'town'.
"Don't be sarcastic, Chandler," Monica snapped, walking back to the living room. "There's a grocery store and a little Wal-mart, and up a couple of miles there's a big resort with restaurants and stuff. I'm not completely in the middle of nowhere."
"But what exactly is here for you?" Chandler inquired. "Besides trees and hills and - forests?"
"I know what there's not," Monica said, averting her eyes. "Cheating husbands. Lying girlfriends. The forest is completely devoid of those, thanks." She sat down on the love seat and began fiddling with a loose string.
Chandler sat down next to her. "Where will you work?" he asked. No, you idiot, that's not what you want to ask, he reprimanded himself.
"At the hotel restaurant," Monica mumbled. "I talked to them, and they can hire me part-time. Until I get another job. There's a couple of places about 30 miles from here..."
"Monica, please. Please reconsider. We all want you back home," Chandler begged.
"I can't go back there," Monica whispered. "I just can't. I don't have anything to go home to."
"You have us," Chandler said. "Me and Ross and Rachel and Joey - we all love you, Monica." He'd said it so many times, told her so many times that they loved her - why didn't she understand?
"I can still talk to you," Monica insisted. "I've got a phone. And I mean, there's plenty of people who only see their brothers at Thanksgiving... their high school best friends' at reunions... and you at the coffeehouse..." Monica collapsed into tears and fell against Chandler's shoulder.
"Shh," he said, rubbing her back. "Shhh."
Monica pulled away, her large blue eyes staring straight into his. "I'm scared to go back there. I'm scared I'll still be in love with Richard. I'm scared he'll hurt me again. How can I be sure I won't fall back in love with him if we're in the same city? How can I be sure? I don't know anything anymore. I can't be hurt like that again."
Chandler didn't think. All he knew was that Monica was hurting - he had to comfort her, had to show her that someone cared about her more than anything else in the world.
So he kissed her.
Crying out loud
I'm crying out loud
Crying out loud
I'm crying out loud
Open your eyes
Open up wide
Why should I care
'Cuz you weren't there when I was scared
I was so alone
Copyright 2002, Avril Lavigne, "Let Go"
A/N: Please review! Thanks a bunch ;)