CHAPTER SIX

After Chandler swallowed the first pill, he just looked at the rest. Hot, angry tears began to roll down his face.

"Goddammit!" he shouted. With a sweep of his arm, he scattered the sleeping pills onto the floor. "Fuck it!" He banged his fist on the table, sobbing furiously.

Up in heaven, I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God," I said. He hadn't done it. He hadn't killed himself.

"I won't," he sobbed, looking upwards - straight into my eyes. "I won't, Monica."

There was a knock on the door, and then Joey burst in. "Chandler?" he said tentatively. "Are you okay?" He looked at the raw self-hatred on Chandler's face and saw the pills on the floor. "My God - what happened? Are you all right?"

"No," Chandler said. "Well - no. I'm talking to my dead wife. Did you hear me, Joey? I'm talking to my freaking dead wife."

"It's okay," Joey said, pulling up the chair next to him. He nervously touched Chandler's arm. "It's okay to talk to her. I know you're hurting, Chandler."

"I was going to take the pills," Chandler said. "I was going to kill myself so I could be with Monica." Joey paled and his grip and Chandler's arm tightened. "But then - I think I heard her. She said - she said 'don't.' She told me not to do it, so you know what? I didn't." He looked at Joey, his eyes wide and wild. "Am I crazy, Joey? Am I out of my mind for thinking that Monica could possibly be talking to me?"

"No," Joey said calmly. "No, you're not crazy. I hear her all the time. She's always with us. She'll be with us forever." I was glad to hear that Joey knew I was always there. I loved Joey, but I, sometimes more than others, thought he was sort of, well, dim; that he really didn't grasp many concepts. But he was smart enough, profound enough, to realize I was there. And in that second I loved Joey more than I ever had before. I loved him for being there for Chandler when I couldn't be.

"Thanks," Chandler whispered hoarsely. He ran his hands through his hair.

"No problem," Joey said, and he hugged Chandler. Chandler yawned.

"I'm going to fall asleep," he said.

"No, no, don't do that," Joey said worriedly.

"Don't worry, Joe, I only took one. But I'm going to fall asleep." Joey nodded, and Chandler went into his room. He was asleep within minutes.

While Chandler slept, Joey called Ross, Rachel, and Phoebe. They all hurried over, and Joey told them how he'd found Chandler.

"Well, I know we haven't been hanging out with him much lately, but he made it pretty clear he wanted to be alone," Ross said after the shock had worn off.

"He might act like that, but guys, he's alone in life now. He needs us so much. We can't ignore him anymore," Joey said.

"Yeah," Phoebe agreed. "It might hurt, but we need to talk to him. If he was in enough pain to even consider committing suicide, something's wrong."

"Of course something's wrong - Monica's dead," Joey said. They all gaped at him for a moment for stating the fact that had never been stated so clearly - I was dead. Gone.

"And that may be all it is," Rachel said. "But we can't help him on our own. I think we need to get him some professional help."

"Chandler won't talk to a shrink," Joey said.

"Not necessarily a shrink," Rachel said. "Maybe a therapist. Someone to talk to, someone who can help him."

When Chandler woke up a few hours later, the four were sitting in the living room, watching TV. Rachel had put Emma down for a nap in the guest room. Chandler stumbled sleepily out of the bedroom.

"Hey, guys," Chandler said, suddenly embarrassed by his episode earlier.

"Hi, Chandler," Rachel said. She would be the one to talk to him. "Come sit down." Chandler sat down between Rachel and Joey. Phoebe was on Joey's other side, and Ross was in the chair.

"Listen," Rachel said. "We don't want you to be mad at us, so please just hear me out. We think you need to talk to someone. It doesn't have to be like a shrink, but maybe a therapist. We think you need to talk to someone. We know you're grieving and you're lonely, but we love you. We don't want you to hurt yourself."

"We really think it would help you," Phoebe said. "That's all we want, Chandler. To help you."

Chandler looked from one honest, open face to the next, and then nodded. "You're right. I can't - I can't go on like this. You guys are absolutely right. I need help."

Ross gave Chandler the name of the therapist he'd spoken to while on sabbatical from work. Chandler made an appointment with him, and days later, began to see him.

Chandler also started hanging out with our friends more. They would talk about me, recall good times. Things were looking up for Chandler, and for the group as a whole. I was not with them in body, but I was there in spirit, no matter how cliched that sounds. I would be in their hearts forever.

Things were also looking up for me in heaven. I still watched, but it was with a lighter heart. I laughed with the group as Emma stuck her face in the cake on her first birthday. I watched Chandler head off to work as a writer for USA Today, something he'd always dreamed of doing. I cheered one night as Ross and Rachel kissed on their couch.

During that kiss, Rachel pulled away, giggling.

"What?" Ross asked.

"Nothing," Rachel giggled. "I just - I imagined Monica up there saying, 'Finally, you idiots have hooked up!'" She laughed, and Ross laughed too.

One day, I realized I needed to watch less and less. I asked Jessie about it.

"You're moving on, too," Jessie told me. "It's a good thing, don't worry."

"But if I stop watching them, will I lose them? Will they stop thinking about me?" I asked worriedly. I didn't want to lose my friends.

"No," Jessie said. "Really, it's okay. It may even help them."

One night, as I watched Chandler write his first real article for USA Today, he looked up at the ceiling, and smiled, but did not speak. I watched him a while longer, but still, he did not say a word. But his eyes - his eyes spoke volumes to me. He told me he still loved me; he told me he would love me forever. But he also told me that he needed to move on, needed to have a life. And I wanted that. I wanted my husband to be happy, even without me. I blew him a kiss and whispered, "Good-bye." And then I left him. He slept alone for the first time that night.

The next day, he finally got rid of most of my stuff. He kept all of my personal items and distributed them within the group. The next weekend, he moved out of our apartment to a place a couple of blocks away, a smaller, one-bedroom place.

From then on, I watched my friends only on big occasions. I watched Phoebe and Joey run home from the movie theaters in driving rain. They collapsed onto Joey's couch and started to kiss, and then got in the shower together and made love. They were inseparable from then on.

Rachel and Ross also "hooked up," as Rachel put it. Rachel moved into Ross's room just after Emma turned one and a half. He proposed to her a few months later.

And then, one day, I did something I had been waiting to do since I'd seen that old woman save her family. Rachel and Phoebe were standing outside Rachel's apartment building, talking, with Emma holding Rachel's hand. Emma wriggled away for a second, and Rachel thought she was just bending down to pick up her pacifier. But Emma, almost 20 months old, had seen a bright red bouncy ball across the street and was going after it.

"Ball!" she exclaimed, and stepped off the curb into traffic. She was running, and when Rachel looked up a split second later, a car was racing toward her daughter.

"Emma!" Rachel screamed at the top of her lungs, but Emma didn't stop. Rachel bolted after the baby, but she was too late. The person in the car was talking on a cell phone and did not see my niece as she ran out in the street.

I was watching in terror. They couldn't lose Emma - that would destroy my friends. Suddenly, something came back to me.

Everyone has a time to go. It was my grandmother - something my grandmother had said. We can only fix things that should be fixed. This could not be Emma's time. I wasn't sure if I believed in God right then, but if I did, I knew God would not be so cruel as to take her from Rachel and Ross. Time seemed to slow down. With all my might, I willed the car to stop. I put my hands out as if to push it, and then - it skidded to a stop.

"Emma!" Rachel screamed again. She collapsed, wrapping her arms around her daughter, and both immediately burst into tears. "Oh my God. Thank God you're all right!"

The man who was driving the car stepped out, wiping sheen of sweat from his forehead.

"Goddamn, lady, you've got a guardian angel watching out for you somewhere," he exclaimed. Through her tears, Rachel looked up at the sky and smiled.

"Yeah," she said. "I do."

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! The next chapter will most likely be the last one :( I hope you all liked this chapter. *hugs Jenni* (aargh how many times must we say NOT ME!) Anyways... please review! Reviews mean so much! Thanks

Jen