AN: Hey y'all! Sorry for the delay (again) for this chapter. You know how it is when you know exactly how you want to end a chapter, but you're not sure how to begin it? Well, that was definitely my problem this time. And I apologize for the relative shortness of this one, but it just HAD to end where it did. So here we go…
There's a ship out
on the ocean,
At the mercy of the sea.
It's been tossed about,
Lost and broken,
Wand'ring aimlessly.
And God, somehow you know that ship is me.
Monica couldn't help but smile when she reentered the waiting room after leaving Chandler. Her friends were sprawled around the room, sleeping – or trying to – in the awkward positions reserved for hospitals and airports. Ross was twisted around into a semi-fetal position in his chair, one knee drawn up under him and his head resting on his arm on top of the chair. Joey was slouched down in his seat, legs and arms splayed outward, snoring lightly. The heels of his feet were planted firmly to keep him from sliding off the chair. Rachel and Phoebe had given up on the chairs and were sprawled on the floor in front of Joey, each using one of his feet for a pillow. Nora was asleep on Mark's shoulder, but Mark's eyes were open. He met her gaze with a small smile, his eyes mirroring her worry but also conveying sympathy and understanding for the position she was in. She acknowledged this with a tight smile, before sinking down into the chair next to him.
"What time is it?" she asked softly, not wanting to disturb her friends and Nora.
"Almost four am," Mark whispered back, smiling when a look of shock passed over Monica's face. It had been a long day, but he knew that if he hadn't felt the passing of time, she surely hadn't either. "You should probably get some sleep."
Monica shook her head slowly and sighed. "I don't think I can," she told him simply, shrugging slightly. Mark nodded, not pressing her further. He couldn't begin to imagine the thoughts that were running through her mind.
"Any change?" he asked instead, referring to her recent trip to Chandler's room.
"No," Monica exhaled, closing her eyes. "He's lying so still, Mark. He…I guess it's the cast over his chest, but I swear you can't even see him breathe." She paused and took a shaky breath as a tear ran slowly down her cheek. "I've never seen him look so helpless. I just – I wish I could at least believe that he somehow knows that I'm here."
Mark shifted Nora out of his arms, leaning her against the back of her chair before he reached over to put an arm around Monica.
"He knows, Monica. I'm sure he does." Mark paused and lifted his eyes above Monica's head, gazing down the hallway leading to his friend's room. "If Chandler can feel anything right now, he'll feel you."
"Mon," Joey whispered, shaking her shoulder gently as he stood over her. "Monica, wake up."
The soft command ripped through Monica's consciousness and she awoke with a jerk, immediately sitting up and staring at Joey with the wild eyes of someone so recently deep in sleep.
"Joey, what it is? Is he awake?"
Joey paused, oddly touched that her thoughts jumped so immediately to Chandler. He had a feeling she had been asking the question over and over in her dreams.
"No, not yet. But the doctors said you could go in if you wanted and I figured you'd probably kill us if we didn't wake you up. His mom's already in there."
Monica stood up without hesitation and ran her hand through her hair, surprised that she had managed to fall asleep after all.
"They're letting Chandler have visitors? That's a good sign, isn't it?"
Joey nodded, though he hesitated to get her hopes up too much. "I guess so. But they still won't let the rest of us in. Just you and Nora."
"Oh," Monica murmured, noting the disappointment on Joey's face. For the first time, she felt guilty about the lie that was allowing her to visit Chandler's room. She wasn't his girlfriend; she wasn't even what most people would call a friend right now. She wondered fleetingly what Chandler would think if he knew they were stretching the truth about her status in his life.
"Maybe…maybe I should just wait out here," she said softly, looking up at Joey. "I mean, I'm not family either. It just doesn't seem right…"
"Monica," Joey told her firmly, looking directly into her uncertain eyes. "You are Chandler's family. Everybody here knows that. C'mon, Monica, Nora didn't even hesitate to ask them to let you in, because she knows as well as the rest of us that Chandler needs you. Don't feel guilty for that."
Monica bit her lip, considering that, and suddenly leaned forward impulsively to kiss Joey on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Me neither," Joey whispered back in a teasing tone, making Monica smile. "Now go on before I tell them that you're NOT his girlfriend and they make you sit out here with us, watching Rachel scope out all the doctors and listening to Phoebe guess what's wrong with all the people being wheeled up and down the halls."
"Okay, okay, I'm going," Monica said with a laugh, turning toward the hallway leading to Chandler's room.
"Hey, Mon?"
"Yeah?" Monica responded, turning around to look back at him.
"Tell him he better wake up soon or I'll pose as Dr. Drake Remoray to get into that hospital room."
Monica smiled, swallowing hard to keep her tears at bay. "I will, Joey."
Nora looked up as Monica gently opened the door to Chandler's room and eased inside, shutting it behind her.
"How is he?" Monica asked softly as she moved to Chandler's side and carefully lifted his hand into hers.
"The same," Nora replied with a weary sigh. "I wish he would wake up. The doctors aren't saying much, but I know that the longer he stays unconscious, the more serious this might be."
Monica sighed and leaned over to kiss Chandler's fingers. "Can he hear us talking to him?"
"I don't know. But Dr. Welborne said to keep trying. You just never know."
Monica leaned forward to brush her lips against Chandler's cheek, then spoke to him softly.
"Baby, if you can hear me, we really need you to wake up. Everybody's so worried about you, Chandler. Joey said to tell you he'll pretend to be Dr. Drake to get in here and see you if he has to… Ross and Rachel and Phoebe are here, too, and your mom and Mark. We're all here, just waiting on you, sweetie. So come back and join us any time."
Monica straightened back up and looked at Nora, who was watching Chandler intently. Monica read the concern on her face, and realized this was the first time she had ever seen Nora Bing look the slightest bit vulnerable. In fact, Monica couldn't remember ever seeing her look any less than perfectly composed.
"He'll be okay, Nora. He has to be." Monica paused, turning her gaze back to Chandler. "Did you hear me, Chandler? You have to be. You have too many people that love you and need you."
Nora wiped a tear from her cheek and squeezed her son's hand. "Monica's right, sweetheart. Now open your eyes and let us see those beautiful baby blues."
They were silent for a moment, both absorbed with their own thoughts about the man lying in front of them. When Monica saw the first twitch of his eyelashes she thought she had imagined it. But a second later she felt a slight pressure on her hand – a pressure that increased as a low groan escaped Chandler's barely parted lips. As Nora leapt up and ran for the door, Monica watched Chandler carefully, not even realizing that she was holding her breath. A moment later, Dr. Welborne and a nurse were by Chandler's side, checking his vitals and waiting to see if he would open his eyes. Monica retreated to the corner, feeling a pang of fear she hadn't expected.
Only a day ago, they had stood face to face and she had yelled at him to stay away from her. Now Chandler was waking up. What would he think when he saw her there?
Chandler fought to focus his mind on the sounds around him, but he couldn't quite process what was happening. A jolt of pain shot through him as he tried to take a deep breath, and he groaned. The noises around him got louder and his confusion mounted. What was going on?
He gathered all of his strength and with a sheer act of will opened his eyes. The light of the room almost blinded him, and he fought the urge to shut them again and retreat back into the fog that had surrounded him. Squinting, he jerked his eyes to left and managed to make out his mother's face. She was crying, but he didn't take the time to wonder why. He could sort through that later. His eyes continued around the room, brushing across the unfamiliar faces bending over him. They seemed to be asking him questions, but he couldn't quite make out the words.
He could feel what little strength he had draining away and he almost allowed himself to sink back into oblivion. But his eyes kept scanning the small room, searching for something, though he wasn't quite sure what.
He was just about to give up – to close his eyes and sink back into sleep – when he saw her, hugging the wall and looking hopeful and scared at the same time. His eyes locked with hers and he felt the waves of pain disappearing. In that one moment, he read everything he needed to know in her eyes, and he hoped that she could see the same in his. He gave her his best attempt at a smile, knowing that he was about to lose his struggle with consciousness.
"Mon…" he whispered, and had just enough time to see her tear-filled eyes overflow before he sank back into blackness again.
'Cause there's a
lighthouse in a harbor,
Shining faithfully.
Pouring its light out,
Across the water.
For this sinking soul to see,
That someone out there still believes in me.
On a prayer,
In a song,
I hear your voice,
And it keeps me hanging on.
Oh, raining down, against the wind.
I'm reaching out,
'Till we reach the circle's end.
When you come back to me again.
"When You Come Back To Me Again"
~Garth Brooks/Jenny Yates
