Sick~Chapter 9

Hi again! I must warn you about this chapter. It is rated R due to "mature thematic elements" (haha thanks Jenni). I know that this entire series is rated R, but this chapter is the main reason. I may be a bit too cautious, but it's better to be safe than sorry. And remember—you've been warned. I wasn't planning on posting so soon, but I am. This is for you Jenni—get better soon, babes! *covers mouth and gives Jenni a hug* (don't wanna get sick, too). Please read and review, thanks!

Disclaimer: After all this time, you'd think I'd at least own like Monica's shoe, but I don't own any of the characters mentioned. Oh well, except Dr. Stein and the orderly, but I don't care 'bout them.

"I can't stop having dreams about him," Monica admitted to Dr. Stein a few sessions later. "Why can't I stop having dreams about him?"

"Well…what happens in these dreams?"

"I…well…there are different ones all the time. At first, it would just be him standing there, but when I'd go over to him, he would disappear. Now, I see him…being dragged off and tortured."

"Well, dreams can mean a lot of different things. They are your subconscious' way of showing you your fears. It seems to me that you fear Chandler is still alive, but he's being tortured, yet you cannot do anything."

"Yeah, I guess I do…"

"And the ones before that…those were probably conveying your feelings of loss."

"That makes sense…it's just…every time I go to sleep, it's so hard."

"I know. I think that, by putting the past behind you, you'll be able to sleep more peacefully."

"Really?"

"Hopefully. But nothing's ever certain."

"Right."

"Have you considered meeting with Rachel and Ross again?"

"Yes."

"And…?"

"I need a little time."

"That's fine. I was hoping that you would wait a little bit more, too."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, I think that it would be best for you that if, before you meet them, you tell me everything leading up to being in here, now."

"That's going to be…hard."

"I know. But I think it's necessary." 

Monica nodded numbly.

"Can you tell me about…that day?"

Monica bit her lip and looked away. "I don't know if I can."

"I'm not going to force you, but I think it'll help you."

"I don't know," Monica replied in a shaky voice.

"Please."

Monica sighed and relented. "After another half a year or so, Rachel had convinced me to go out on a blind date. I hadn't really wanted to go, but she would not back down on her proposal. Finally, after running out of the energy and excuses needed to fight her off, I gave in..."

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           "Mon, I'm so happy that you've decided to go on this date!" Rachel told me as she searched through my closet, "Jonathon is so nice, and sweet, and funny!"

"That's great," I answered faintly from my spot on my bed.

Rachel noticed my distant demeanor. "Please Mon, just give him a chance."

I sighed heavily. "I'll try."

"Good, thank you Mon!"

"Uh-huh."

Rachel closed my closet door and huffed, "You have nothing to wear. I'm gonna go find you something of mine to wear."

Once she left the room, I began to think about what this date would mean. Was I getting over Chandler? I didn't want to get over him. I couldn't understand why everyone wanted me to move on because I didn't think that I ever could. Still, I went out on this date because I was beginning to feel like this nuisance. I mean I just sulked around the house all day. Ross and Rachel seemed to do almost everything for me. I didn't shop anymore, I didn't cook, I didn't clean. It was as if my entire life was consumed by him. But that's the way I wanted it to be.

          My date and I double dated with Ross and Rachel. We had dinner at this small Italian restaurant that Chandler and I used to go to all the time. That, of course, just served to remind me of what I had lost.   

"So, Monica," Jonathon began at the meal.

"Yes?"

"What do you do for a living?"

I watched as Rachel tried to discreetly warn Jonathon not to bring up that topic by mouthing to him.

"Well, I'm a chef, but at the moment, I'm in between jobs." I glanced across the table and noticed the looks of relief that spread over Ross and Rachel's faces. I guess they figured I'd be upset since I didn't work anymore.

"Oh, that's nice." He paused. "So, where did you grow up?"

"Long Island."

"So did I," Ross chimed in.

The rest of the group laughed at my brother's lousy attempt at a joke, but all I could think of was how Chandler would have retorted to Ross' quip. He was always the one who had the comebacks.

An eerie hush overtook our group after that conversation. After a few vain attempts from the three of them to get a conversation going, we all fell into a tedious and uncomfortable silence. I had no idea what to say to this man, who was supposed to be my date. I felt that I shouldn't be out on a date! I should be out with Chandler, having a romantic candlelight dinner or even just sitting in our living room, eating pizza and drinking soda. It didn't matter to me; I just wanted to be with him. Everything at the place reminded me of him. The man at the next table was wearing a tie that looked remarkably similar to Chandler's, Ross ordered the same ravioli dish that Chandler had ordered there once, and the waiter ran his hand through his hair, almost like Chandler used to do while he was stressed. Finally, it became too much for me to handle, and I ran out of the restaurant. Rachel followed me out and grabbed my arm.

"Mon, what's wrong?"

"I can't do this. It's too hard!"

"Oh, but you were doing so well."

"No! No I wasn't! I can't stop thinking about him! Everything I see reminds me of him!"

"Mon—"

"Please, just let me go home," I begged.

Rachel looked into my eyes for a moment, sighed and then agreed.

          Once I got home, and Rachel and Ross had left my apartment, I turned out all the lights and sat at the kitchen table. That date had really opened my eyes to what my life had become. I couldn't live without him! I mean even though he wasn't there with me, I couldn't get him out of my head. Even in the dark room, I could see Chandler's face everywhere. He was sitting next to me, he was watching TV in the living room, he was standing on the balcony. Yet, he wasn't really anywhere. I couldn't live like this anymore! I just couldn't! This wasn't living.

It was at that point that I made a decision. I got up and opened one of the cabinets gingerly. I had been thinking about it for a while before then. Often I held the small bottle in my palm and stared at it for hours on end. Yet, I could never drum up the courage to do it. However, this time, I could not find the will power to stop myself. I knew that I couldn't live my life without Chandler, so it seemed like the only option. Slowly, I poured the white pills onto the table and fingered them lightly. My heart was racing, my head pounding, and my body shaking, but I had to do it. I opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. That was it; there was no turning back now. I sat down and took the first pill in my hand. I studied it some more. Then I grabbed the water and put the pill at the back of my tongue. I took a deep breath and then a gulp of water. I felt the pill and coldness of the liquid pass through my esophagus and knew it was almost the end. With more confidence, I grabbed pill after pill and swallowed them quickly and unmercifully. I needed to get out! Then, there it was. The darkness of my deed; the sweet, silent slumber.

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          Monica stopped talking and Dr. Stein studied Monica's shame-filled face.

"Do you feel guilty for doing it?"

"Yes," Monica chocked out.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Perhaps you feel that you let down your friends…and maybe Chandler, too?"

Monica didn't answer, just stared into space. She hadn't thought about her attempt at suicide in a long time, and recalling it brought back all of her feelings of shame.

"Mrs. Bing?" the doctor called, trying to coax Monica out of her daze. However, no matter what she did, Monica refused to meet her gaze or answer her questions. Dr. Stein sighed and allowed Monica to leave. She hoped that Monica wouldn't begin to move backwards after reminiscing. She had big plans for Monica, and was determined to cure her. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

          After curfew, all of the residents were sleeping in their beds, except for Monica. She tiptoed out of her bed, vaguely aware of her feet moving below her, and sneaked into the dimly lit corridor. She smiled nervously when she saw the person she was looking for. Monica walked slowly up to the orderly who was always staring at her. She approached him and smiled sweetly, feigning confidence and interest.

"Miss, you're not supposed to be out here."

"I know," she answered in a seductive tone, "But I needed to see you."

The orderly cleared his throat nervously. "Really?"

"Oh yeah."

"What can I do for y--?"

He stopped when he felt Monica stoking his arm slowly and suggestively.

"This is against the rules!" he whispered harshly.

However, Monica didn't stop. Instead, she moved towards his chest.

The man thought for a moment and then decided, "But what are rules when you don't break them?"

Monica smiled triumphantly and led him to her room. She wasn't exactly sure why she was doing this, but she knew she needed it. She wanted to get over Chandler. She thought that having some meaningless sex would free her from the bonds of her horrible past and present, even if only for a short time.

          The man kissed Monica hard on the mouth when they entered the room and led her to her bed. She laid down on the bed and he got on top of her. He was about to start kissing her again, but she stopped him.

"Okay, I have a few ground rules."

"Okay?"

"First of all, you are never, ever to tell anyone of this."

"Got it."

"Second, you are never to ask for this from me ever again."

The man looked down at Monica below him while contemplating this for a moment. "Okay."

"You'd better, because I'm crazy and who knows what a crazy person can do!" she threatened.

"Okay."

With that, Monica dropped her head back on her pillow and allowed the man to begin kissing her again. He took of her pajamas and removed his own white orderly outfit. Monica didn't touch him, though. She just laid there and tried to get the images of Chandler that kept appearing, out of her mind.

          Through the grunting and moaning of the man on top of her, Monica continued to think about Chandler. Having sex with Chandler was much more fulfilling and pleasurable than having it with this man who she didn't even know. Chandler tried to make it both meaningful and enjoyable for her, while this man was just on top of her for a quick lay. It wasn't the same without Chandler's gentle touch and affectionate kisses being planted on her body. Most of all, she missed hearing Chandler whisper his declarations of love and admiration that he felt towards her. Instead, the entire time, she bit her lip and willed the bitter tears not to fall. Sleeping with another man only made her feelings towards Chandler magnify. It served to show her what she had been missing for all this time.

          After the man climaxed, he rolled off of Monica and gave her another kiss. From the look in her eyes, he could tell that she hadn't enjoyed their shared experience at all.

"Why'd you let me do it?" he asked Monica gently.

She looked away. "I thought I could get over my past."

"Did you?"

Monica bit her lip. "No."

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely as he dressed and handed Monica her own clothes.

"Yeah, you're sorry for me," Monica repeated bitterly, "Aren't we all?"

…And there ya go. Please read and review, thanks! Gotta get this up before an unmentioned person kills me.