Let Her Cry 7
A/N For my incredibly slow working rate I'm quite proud that I managed to write this relatively quickly ;) I've gotta say thanks to Ez and Sarah (again ;)) for this one cause their amazing writing inspired me to kick my ass into gear. Go read Ez's fic 'Reality is wrong' and Sarah's fic 'Shattered' (in the Scream section) now or I'll kick your collective ass! Oh you better run!!! :p
Disclaimer: I own them all MWHAHAHA *sits and waits to see if anything bad will happen now she's said that* Oh and also the quote at the bottom is from Mrs Potter's Lullaby - Counting Crows. I wish I could lie and say I owned that too but I could never lay claim to such genius ;)
Chandler could feel her nervously tugging at his fingers as they stepped out of the taxi to face an apartment block Monica hadn't seen for many years. Chandler glanced over at her as he pulled their luggage out from behind the worn taxi seats. She was stood motionless gazing blankly at the building. Her eyes were fixed on the present but it was clear her mind was trawling through the past. He let go of her hand briefly to pay the taxi driver and she immediately began twisting her wedding band round her finger, a nervous habit Chandler had noticed a lot in the past week. A week that had turned both their worlds upside down, inside out and back to front, to a happier past. They had spent time talking and laughing, kissing and love making, trying to make the days before they returned to New York fade into one another in a blissful pretence of normalcy. But the underlying tension that inhabited their strange relationship had not dissipated, notching up to fever pitch as the day for return came closer. They both knew it was there, and acknowledged it in silence. The tightening tension drew them together in unity; the sparks it caused wrapped them tight in intense love. They embraced it tentatively, but they were both afraid of the breaking point. When the tension broke would their unstable relationship break too? Coughing gently Chandler interrupted Monica's reverie. Shaking her head, as if to clear it of wisps of memory she smiled reassuringly at him. He was nervous; she could tell that by the way he was shuffling his feet, staring down at his shoes intently whilst he thrust his hands deeply into his pockets. She was incredibly nervous as well but she knew that this time she had to take the lead. She had been the one to leave; she had to be the one to take the difficult steps to returning. Afraid that she would just turn away and take the easy route back out of his life if she stood around for much longer, she picked up her bag and strode with false bravado into the building, leaving Chandler to follow behind. She shuffled up the stairs one by one, her bag banging against her leg uncomfortably as she followed the stairs up and up. " I'll take it if you want," Chandler's voice floated up from a few steps behind. " No it's okay," she reassured him, turning around to flash him a gentle smile, " It's really not that heavy." It wasn't, clothes and photos were it's only contents. Monica found it ironic that she could pack the life she had tried so hard to fool herself with into one bag. It had all been a mirage that she'd built up in order to try and forget, a mirage that had folded in on itself when challenged. None of it had belonged to her, the apartment in Chicago, the waitress job, the few friendly acquaintances, they were not hers. All she owned from her life in Chicago was a few worthless material possessions and photos of the very past she'd been trying to forget. Chandler watched from behind as she reached their floor and turned the corner to stand in front of their door. It looked just the same as ever, the paint was becoming faded a little but the light still glinted annoyingly off the brass 20. Her shoulders clenched together as she took a deep breath and reached to push the door open.it didn't budge. "Yeah Mon you might want to try unlocking it first," Chandler chuckled from behind her. Her shoulders started to shake a little as she harshly exhaled, laughter on her breath. As the absurdity of the situation struck her Monica began to laugh out loud, she felt ridiculous for letting herself get so worked up over simply opening a door. The more she thought about it, the more hysterical she became, having to brace her hands against the door as she bent over double with laughter. Chandler stood behind her looking perplexed, " Okay, come on, what's so funny?" he asked, keen to be let in on the joke. Monica stood up, wiping her eyes and grinned at him, " It's just since when the hell did you start locking the door?!!" She spluttered, and bent over again, holding her waist in an attempt to ward off the laughter pains. Chandler squinted at her uncertainly, unsure whether he should laugh along or call the psychiatrist now. She looked up at him pleadingly through her laughter and suddenly he understood, this was her way of dealing with the enormity of what she was about to do. His mouth curled up at the corner and soon his whole face had broken out in a smile. Monica had managed to stand up but as soon as he caught her eye she was off again, her peals of laughter ringing through the hallway begging him to join in. He laughed, letting his fears, doubts and anxieties ebb away as he held onto her and shook. Giggling she reached into his pocket for the key and turned to unlock the door. It swung open slowly, revealing the apartment to be practically the same as when she had left years ago. Her magnets remained in perfect place on the fridge; the big white dog was still out on the balcony, their wedding photo stayed on the wall as she had left it, their happy faces grinning back at her. Monica, still in the throes of laughter, barely turned round to take it all in, she didn't dare. Instead she turned to Chandler who was staring at her expectantly and flung her arms around his neck. " Let's celebrate," she grinned as she pulled his face towards hers for a long kiss. He kissed her eagerly, taking her good mood on face value, just wanting to enjoy the moment. He kissed his way delicately from her mouth along her cheekbone to her ear " Welcome home," he whispered as he pushed her into their bedroom.
Hours later Monica lay under Chandler, gently stroking his back as he slept, his breath coming evenly and warm against her cheek. Try as she might she couldn't sleep, her mind was too full of the day's events and emotions to relax and let her drift off. It alerted her to every chink of light that escaped through the blinds, every police siren from below their window, every dog bark. Resigning herself to a sleepless night she sighed in frustration and disentangled herself from Chandler's embrace. Pulling Chandlers t-shirt from the floor up and over her head, Monica wrapped her arms around herself and wandered into the living room, hoping to find some comfort in the familiar surroundings. The night sky cast midnight shadows across the room, making it seem alive and markedly less cheerful than it had that afternoon. She ran a hand through her hair and went to sit down next to the window, trying to merge into one with the murky shapes that surrounded her. Finding no solace in watching clouds chase each across the bleak sky she turned round slowly to face the apartment. This time her eyes lingered over each little detail, taking everything in, trying to absorb it all and burn it's image into her mind to replace the memories that were now awakening. Through the darkness she could almost taste the bittersweet moments. Her senses were going into overdrive; her mind was dragging up long forgotten conversations. She could hear the voices as clearly as if it were yesterday.
'Welcome to the real world, it sucks, you're gonna love it'
' I can't believe you hated me,' ' Now I love you, and not just cause I have to'
' I love her okay, I'm in love with her,' ' I can't believe it my best friend and my sister!'
'Monica will you marry me?' 'Yes, oh yes'
'No one, I repeat no ONE blames you for Ross's death'
' Don't do this to yourself Mon. Fight it, I'll help you. But don't DON'T believe this is your fault cause it will eat you alive.'
'Will you listen to yourself? This is not you, my Monica would never say this.' 'Your Monica has changed'
Your Monica has changed. The words clung around her, an unwanted truth, stripping away the lies she had wrapped herself in. She had changed, she was different now, she didn't belong here. She felt like a stranger sitting in her own living room, she was felt like she was damaging herself and everything around her by being here. The picture was distorted and she knew it. Placing her head on her knees she allowed the mask to slip, her previous mirth faded as the tears dripped through her fingertips. She cried through the night, with only her memories to keep her company.
'And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings'
TBC
Bloody hell this fic is gonna have me warped by the time I'm finished ;) To keep just a little of my sanity in tact I beg you all PLEASE REVIEW.
A/N For my incredibly slow working rate I'm quite proud that I managed to write this relatively quickly ;) I've gotta say thanks to Ez and Sarah (again ;)) for this one cause their amazing writing inspired me to kick my ass into gear. Go read Ez's fic 'Reality is wrong' and Sarah's fic 'Shattered' (in the Scream section) now or I'll kick your collective ass! Oh you better run!!! :p
Disclaimer: I own them all MWHAHAHA *sits and waits to see if anything bad will happen now she's said that* Oh and also the quote at the bottom is from Mrs Potter's Lullaby - Counting Crows. I wish I could lie and say I owned that too but I could never lay claim to such genius ;)
Chandler could feel her nervously tugging at his fingers as they stepped out of the taxi to face an apartment block Monica hadn't seen for many years. Chandler glanced over at her as he pulled their luggage out from behind the worn taxi seats. She was stood motionless gazing blankly at the building. Her eyes were fixed on the present but it was clear her mind was trawling through the past. He let go of her hand briefly to pay the taxi driver and she immediately began twisting her wedding band round her finger, a nervous habit Chandler had noticed a lot in the past week. A week that had turned both their worlds upside down, inside out and back to front, to a happier past. They had spent time talking and laughing, kissing and love making, trying to make the days before they returned to New York fade into one another in a blissful pretence of normalcy. But the underlying tension that inhabited their strange relationship had not dissipated, notching up to fever pitch as the day for return came closer. They both knew it was there, and acknowledged it in silence. The tightening tension drew them together in unity; the sparks it caused wrapped them tight in intense love. They embraced it tentatively, but they were both afraid of the breaking point. When the tension broke would their unstable relationship break too? Coughing gently Chandler interrupted Monica's reverie. Shaking her head, as if to clear it of wisps of memory she smiled reassuringly at him. He was nervous; she could tell that by the way he was shuffling his feet, staring down at his shoes intently whilst he thrust his hands deeply into his pockets. She was incredibly nervous as well but she knew that this time she had to take the lead. She had been the one to leave; she had to be the one to take the difficult steps to returning. Afraid that she would just turn away and take the easy route back out of his life if she stood around for much longer, she picked up her bag and strode with false bravado into the building, leaving Chandler to follow behind. She shuffled up the stairs one by one, her bag banging against her leg uncomfortably as she followed the stairs up and up. " I'll take it if you want," Chandler's voice floated up from a few steps behind. " No it's okay," she reassured him, turning around to flash him a gentle smile, " It's really not that heavy." It wasn't, clothes and photos were it's only contents. Monica found it ironic that she could pack the life she had tried so hard to fool herself with into one bag. It had all been a mirage that she'd built up in order to try and forget, a mirage that had folded in on itself when challenged. None of it had belonged to her, the apartment in Chicago, the waitress job, the few friendly acquaintances, they were not hers. All she owned from her life in Chicago was a few worthless material possessions and photos of the very past she'd been trying to forget. Chandler watched from behind as she reached their floor and turned the corner to stand in front of their door. It looked just the same as ever, the paint was becoming faded a little but the light still glinted annoyingly off the brass 20. Her shoulders clenched together as she took a deep breath and reached to push the door open.it didn't budge. "Yeah Mon you might want to try unlocking it first," Chandler chuckled from behind her. Her shoulders started to shake a little as she harshly exhaled, laughter on her breath. As the absurdity of the situation struck her Monica began to laugh out loud, she felt ridiculous for letting herself get so worked up over simply opening a door. The more she thought about it, the more hysterical she became, having to brace her hands against the door as she bent over double with laughter. Chandler stood behind her looking perplexed, " Okay, come on, what's so funny?" he asked, keen to be let in on the joke. Monica stood up, wiping her eyes and grinned at him, " It's just since when the hell did you start locking the door?!!" She spluttered, and bent over again, holding her waist in an attempt to ward off the laughter pains. Chandler squinted at her uncertainly, unsure whether he should laugh along or call the psychiatrist now. She looked up at him pleadingly through her laughter and suddenly he understood, this was her way of dealing with the enormity of what she was about to do. His mouth curled up at the corner and soon his whole face had broken out in a smile. Monica had managed to stand up but as soon as he caught her eye she was off again, her peals of laughter ringing through the hallway begging him to join in. He laughed, letting his fears, doubts and anxieties ebb away as he held onto her and shook. Giggling she reached into his pocket for the key and turned to unlock the door. It swung open slowly, revealing the apartment to be practically the same as when she had left years ago. Her magnets remained in perfect place on the fridge; the big white dog was still out on the balcony, their wedding photo stayed on the wall as she had left it, their happy faces grinning back at her. Monica, still in the throes of laughter, barely turned round to take it all in, she didn't dare. Instead she turned to Chandler who was staring at her expectantly and flung her arms around his neck. " Let's celebrate," she grinned as she pulled his face towards hers for a long kiss. He kissed her eagerly, taking her good mood on face value, just wanting to enjoy the moment. He kissed his way delicately from her mouth along her cheekbone to her ear " Welcome home," he whispered as he pushed her into their bedroom.
Hours later Monica lay under Chandler, gently stroking his back as he slept, his breath coming evenly and warm against her cheek. Try as she might she couldn't sleep, her mind was too full of the day's events and emotions to relax and let her drift off. It alerted her to every chink of light that escaped through the blinds, every police siren from below their window, every dog bark. Resigning herself to a sleepless night she sighed in frustration and disentangled herself from Chandler's embrace. Pulling Chandlers t-shirt from the floor up and over her head, Monica wrapped her arms around herself and wandered into the living room, hoping to find some comfort in the familiar surroundings. The night sky cast midnight shadows across the room, making it seem alive and markedly less cheerful than it had that afternoon. She ran a hand through her hair and went to sit down next to the window, trying to merge into one with the murky shapes that surrounded her. Finding no solace in watching clouds chase each across the bleak sky she turned round slowly to face the apartment. This time her eyes lingered over each little detail, taking everything in, trying to absorb it all and burn it's image into her mind to replace the memories that were now awakening. Through the darkness she could almost taste the bittersweet moments. Her senses were going into overdrive; her mind was dragging up long forgotten conversations. She could hear the voices as clearly as if it were yesterday.
'Welcome to the real world, it sucks, you're gonna love it'
' I can't believe you hated me,' ' Now I love you, and not just cause I have to'
' I love her okay, I'm in love with her,' ' I can't believe it my best friend and my sister!'
'Monica will you marry me?' 'Yes, oh yes'
'No one, I repeat no ONE blames you for Ross's death'
' Don't do this to yourself Mon. Fight it, I'll help you. But don't DON'T believe this is your fault cause it will eat you alive.'
'Will you listen to yourself? This is not you, my Monica would never say this.' 'Your Monica has changed'
Your Monica has changed. The words clung around her, an unwanted truth, stripping away the lies she had wrapped herself in. She had changed, she was different now, she didn't belong here. She felt like a stranger sitting in her own living room, she was felt like she was damaging herself and everything around her by being here. The picture was distorted and she knew it. Placing her head on her knees she allowed the mask to slip, her previous mirth faded as the tears dripped through her fingertips. She cried through the night, with only her memories to keep her company.
'And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings'
TBC
Bloody hell this fic is gonna have me warped by the time I'm finished ;) To keep just a little of my sanity in tact I beg you all PLEASE REVIEW.