Sick~Chapter 6-Precious Illusions

Hey! I hope this begins to sort of answer your questions. I swear I know exactly where I'm gonna go w/ this story, for once! It's very exciting. Yeah, and you'll find out about Monica very, very soon. Promise! Anyway, umm…u should know that the flashback takes place in the real season 7 and everything stands from the show until then. Ok, please read and review, thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters except for the orderlies, "Julia", and Dr. Stein. I also don't own the lyrics to Precious Illusions by Alanis Morissette.

A few mornings later, Monica entered the office that she had been in so many other times. However, this time, the office looked different. There were still bookshelves, but not as many books on them. Also, the normally cluttered desk was near to bare and the walls had pictures of children on them, in addition to degrees and certificates. When she studied the certificates further, she realized that they weren't the same either. They were in the name of a 'Lauren R. Stein'.

"Great," Monica sighed, "A new doctor."

A minute later, the door opened and the new doctor entered. She had long, brown hair that was pushed back into a bun and glasses down to her nose. "Hello Mrs. Bing," she greeted amiably, "My name's Dr. Stein."

Monica studied her for a moment. "How did you know to call me Mrs. Bing?"

"Oh, well I read the notes that your last doctor left about you. If you prefer to be called Mrs. Bing, then I'll call you that. I don't really care. As long as I call you by something and you answer."

Monica smiled slightly. Although she resented everyone who worked there, this woman seemed to be different. However, Monica wasn't going to let her guard down so soon. Appearances can be deceiving. Monica knew that better than anyone else.

"So, Mrs. Bing, why don't you take a seat on the couch over there."

Monica looked at her oddly. The couch was far away from her desk. They would have to practically yell to hear each other. Still, Monica went and sat down on the couch. After a moment, Dr. Stein joined her. Monica tried to hide her surprise at this. Her old doctor always sat at his huge, wooden desk in his tall, black, leather chair.

"So, Mrs. Bing, how long have you been here for?"

"Don't you have that in your notes?"

"Yes, I do. But I would like to see how well you can keep track of time."

"I've been for almost a year and a half now," she answered monotonously, "It'll be a year and a half in one month and nine days."

Dr. Stein pushed her glasses up her nose a bit and with a hint of surprise said, "That's exactly correct."

"Yeah well, there isn't much else to do here but keep track of things like that."

"I understand. Umm…I was thinking that I should start out by telling you a bit about myself. Since, you'll hopefully be sharing a lot about yourself to me."

"Okay."

"Well, I'm 42 years old. My husband's name is Donald and I have two children—Andrew and Samantha. Andrew is 13 years old and Samantha is 12. They fight like crazy."

Monica smiled inwardly, remembering when she and Ross were that age.

Dr. Stein then looked down at her notes, "Who brought you here?"

Monica scowled, recalling her most recent memories of Ross. "My brother."

"And were you close with your brother?"

"I was."

"But you're not now?"

"No."

"Why is that?"

"Because he brought me here. He gave up on me and sent me here."

"Perhaps, he thought it was the best thing for you at the time."

"That's bullshit. He just wanted to spend time with his new wife and not have to worry about me."

"How do you know that's true?"

"Because…it's obvious."

"How so?"

"You'd just…you'd have to be there to understand."

"I see. Could you perhaps…take me there? Describe what you had to go through for me?"

Monica shook her head.

"Why not?"

"I don't trust you."

There, she had said it. Those four words summed up what she felt towards almost everyone and everything. Nothing in her life could be the same ever again.

"I wish you would trust me."

"Yeah, well we all have wishes…they aren't always granted."

"Okay, well, how about we move on? Did you have any friends?"

"Yes."

"May I ask their names?"

"Phoebe, Joey, and Rachel."

"And do you still speak to them?"

"I speak to Phoebe over the phone, since she's in Africa for a few years. I haven't spoken to Joey, since…well…before I was put in here. And Rachel…same goes for as goes for my brother."

"Excuse me?"

"He's her wife."

"I see. But why did Joey stop talking to you?"

"He hates what I did to myself and he can't look at me without thinking of Chandler."

"Chandler?"

Monica stopped talking, and distanced herself from the situation. She just stared ahead, almost as if her soul was detached from her body.

"Mrs. Bing?" Dr. Stein called, "Mrs. Bing?" She signed and called in a nurse to take her back. Something about Monica's case fascinated Dr. Stein. It was a case unlike any of the others she had dealt like. Monica didn't seem like the rest. Dr. Stein intended on proving that. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

          Monica fell asleep that night, the same way she always fell asleep. After a few hours of tossing and turning, she drifted into a fitful sleep. Tonight her dream was different than normal. She dreamt of the past. She dreamt of the horrid day that she found out. The day that ended her life as she had known it.

          The morning of that day, Monica and Chandler laid in bed next to each other, trying to muster up enough strength to get out of their bed. Monica picked up her hand and examined it.

"Can you believe we're getting married in three months?!" She asked excitedly.

"Well, since it's me who's getting married, then no. I can't believe it."

She smacked his arm lightly. "Come on," Monica whined, "Be serious."

"Ok, seriously. I'm shocked that I was able to find someone as wonderful and beautiful as you, who would actually say yes to a Chandler Bing proposal."

"Who wouldn't say yes?"

"Well, there was Alexandra…"

"Excuse me?!"

Chandler smiled playfully. "Yeah, she was my first love."

"What?!"

"Look at you all jealous. Monica, green is not a good color on you."

She hit him harder this time.

"Oww!"

"That's what you get for being so horrible!"

"Alexandra was my first grade crush. We were on the playground and I asked her to marry me. I had gotten her one of those plastic rings and everything."

"Well, what happened?"

Chandler looked away embarrassed. "She laughed and said 'Chandler Bing wants me to marry him? That's yucky!'"

"Aww…my poor baby," Monica consoled jokingly.

He pretended to hold back tears. "It's still hurts me, ya know?"

"Aww here," she hugged him, "Is that better?"

He laid his head on her breasts and smiled. "Much better!"

"Chandler!"

He picked up his head and smiled sheepishly. "Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"Have I told you lately that you're a pain in the ass?"

"Everyday of my life."

Monica laughed and caught a glimpse of the alarm clock. "Oh my God, Chandler! We're gonna be late!"

"So?"

"So? Some of us have to get to work."

"Who?"

"Ha, ha. Come on, get dressed."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Ten minutes later, Monica was rushing to get ready, while Chandler and Joey were talking and eating their breakfasts casually.

"Monica slow down," Joey told her, "You're gonna go into overload. Ya know, like one of those machines? Start smoking and stuff until you catch on fire." He nodded dreamily, "That'd be cool."

She stopped long enough to glare at Joey, who looked away, fearfully.

Monica grabbed her purse and jacket and ran out the door. She came back after a second and ran over to Chandler at the kitchen table. "Bye sweetie," She kissed him on the lips, "See you tonight."

"Of course. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Monica then left her apartment in a hustle. If she had known that would have been the last she would see of him, she wouldn't have rushed off to work so quickly.

          That night, Monica arrived home to an empty apartment.

"Chandler?" she called, while looking in the other rooms. He was normally in the apartment when she arrived home late from work. She decided to head across the hall to Joey and Rachel's apartment. She entered to find Joey and Rachel watching a movie.

"Have you guys seen Chandler anywhere?"

"No," Rachel answered.

"Yeah, he wasn't at the coffee house earlier, either."

"That's odd. Maybe he had to stay late at the office." She headed back across the hall and called his office number and cell phone. Both times there was no answer. She then glanced through the window, across the ally, into Ross' apartment, but didn't see Chandler. Then, she went down to Central Perk, but still, no Chandler. She was getting worried now. It wasn't like Chandler to just go somewhere without telling her. She sat up all night waiting for Chandler to come home, but he never did.

          That morning, she had drifted off into a light sleep, when the door opened. "Chandler?!" she called out. When she turned around, she saw that it was Joey, Rachel, and Phoebe.

"He didn't come home last night?" Rachel asked worriedly.

"No."

"That's not like Chandler," Phoebe stated.

"Where could he be?!" Monica asked her friends. They stared back at her, just as clueless as she was.

The door opened again and the four of them looked over hopefully. However, it was just Ross.

"Hey guys, what's up?"

"Chandler didn't come home last night," Rachel informed him.

"What? And he's not home now?"

"No."

"Did you call him at work, on his cell, look in…"

"Yes! I looked everywhere!"

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Monica jumped to answer it. "Chandler?!" she called through it, expectantly. She opened it, revealing a tall man in a black suit.

"Is this the home of a Mr. Chandler Muriel Bing?" the man asked.

"Yes."

"I'm Detective White. To whom am I speaking to?"

"Chandler's…fiancée. Is he okay?!"

"I'm sorry, miss. We umm…found his…empty wallet today and a…bloodstained shirt that we think belongs to him. But we've found no body and have no leads or suspects at the moment…"

Monica stared at him in shock for a moment. Ross ran up and grabbed his sister's shoulders, when he noticed her begin to turn pale. She turned around and threw up all over the floor.

***************************************************************

"Chandler!" Monica cried into the thick darkness of the night. She sat up and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She realized that she had just been dreaming, yet again. It seemed as if she missed Chandler more and more everyday. She wished that she could see him again—that he would return to her. However, her hope was wearing thin. He had been gone for over two years now. No suspects, no leads. Just his wallet and shirt. "I hope you're okay, Chandler," she whispered, "Wherever you are."

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day, Monica and Julia were sitting in the recreation room, looking at an issue of TIME Magazine that was about ten years old. They were pretty bored doing so, but it was the only form of entertainment available. After a few minutes, an orderly entered the room and brought in all the mail. One postcard was thrown onto Monica's lap. At the front was a picture of Jamaica.

"Oo, Jamaica," Julia said bitterly, "Wouldn't you like to be there now?"

"Anywhere beats a place where they have to cut off the damn edges of a postcard! I mean what do they think we're gonna do? Give ourselves the paper cut of death?"

"I dunno. So, who's it from?"

Monica turned it over and sighed. "It's from my brother and his wife."

"Your friend Rachel?"

"No. My ex-friend Rachel."

"Right. What does it say?"

"Dear Monica," she read in a mocking tone, "We're having so much fun here in Jamaica. The beach is beautiful and the people are so nice. We miss you. I was just thinking about that time we committed insurance fraud—well almost. Then, we fixed everything before anyone found out. You remember, right? Well, anyway, Ross and I just wanted to say hi. We hope to see you soon. Love, Ross and Rachel." When she finished reading it, Monica threw it in the trashcan and went back to reading the magazine.

*~*~*~*~*

          That afternoon, Monica grabbed a pencil and paper in the recreation room and began to write.

Dear Ross and Rachel,

          I'm so glad that you wrote to me. It's nice that you remembered me throughout your busy, bustling lives. I'm so happy that you enjoyed Jamaica. You know, I was going to go to Jamaica, too. But then, something came up. Look how that worked out. Anyway, yes, Rachel, I remember what you're talking about with the insurance fraud. I may be "sick" but I didn't get amnesia.

-Monica

She stuffed the paper into an envelope, addressed it, and threw it into the outbox. They had some nerve trying to act like nothing ever happened. The two of them had gotten together again right after Chandler's disappearance. Her tragedy and her loss had brought them together. And then—they ditched her. "Some friends," she mumbled as she walked towards the cafeteria.

You'll rescue me right?
in the exact same way they never did.
I'll be happy right?
when your healing powers kick in

You'll complete me right?
then my life can finally begin
I'll be worthy right?
only when you realize the gem I am?

But this won't work now the way it once did
and I won't keep it up even though I would love to
once I know who I'm not then I'll know who I am
but I know I won't keep on playing the victim

These precious illusions in my head did not let me down
when I was defenseless
and parting with them is like parting with invisible best friends

This ring will help me yet as will you knight in shining armor
this pill will help me yet as will these boys gone through like water

But this won't work as well as the way it once did
cuz I want to decide between survival and bliss
and though I know who I'm not I still don't know who I am
but I know I won't keep on playing the victim

-Excerpt from the song Precious Illusions, by Alanis Morissette

Oh and don't pay too much attention to these songs I add at the end, cause it's getting increasingly hard to find songs to go at the end of these chapters, and like they don't really make sense anymore, but oh well. I'm doing the best I can. Ok, please leave me a review, thanks! :o)