AN: Just so you know, it's a bad idea to let Chandler "think", because when Chandler "thinks", he rambles. And of course, he hits on all kinds of interesting things that he should pursue in his ramblings, but he's ended up somewhere completely different from where he was supposed to be going, and then you end up deleting the whole two pages you typed up and starting over because you just can't get where you're going from where you are. Yeah, so that's my excuse for why this wasn't posted a week ago. =)
"For the record, I don't think this is a good idea," Ross announced, confident that his proclamation would put an end to all discussion on the matter.
"Objection noted," Monica commented dryly, wishing her protective big brother wasn't so damn protective sometimes. "But the decision is already made."
"Mon," Ross began again, prepared to go into a painfully thorough explanation of his reasoning. But Monica stopped him with a shake of her head and a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"I know what you're thinking, Ross, and I honestly can't blame you for it. But please try to understand. I love him. No matter how many reasons he's given me to hate him, I just can't. And you can't either, or you would not have come to Boston."
"But he's – "
"Ross," Monica interrupted again, and this time there was a cold edge to her voice. "If you had opened your eyes one morning while you were with Rachel and she was gone; if you found her just when you had given up all hope of ever seeing her again, what would you do? Would you walk away from her, or would you stay?"
Ross hesitated, glancing over at Rachel while the group waited for his answer with interest. "I…I don't know. I - I guess I would…stay."
"Please try to understand," Monica pleaded, her blue eyes beginning to glisten with unshed tears. "I can't leave him, Ross. He needs me."
Ross swallowed away his rebuttal – that Chandler had left her when she needed him – and nodded slowly. He didn't like it, but he understood it.
"Are you sure you don't want one of us to stay with you?" Rachel asked, putting her arm around Monica's waist. "We don't mind."
A flash of uncertainty crossed Monica's face, but she nodded anyway. "I'm sure. You need to get back to New York. There's no reason for you to stick around here with us."
Us. Everyone noted Monica's inclusive reference, but no one commented. They all had different opinions on the subject of Monica and Chandler, but no one dared to voice them, not in Monica's presence. She seemed to be constantly teetering on the edge of a breakdown, but her delicate emotional state was no match for her determination to remain strong.
"You'll call if you need us?" Joey asked, the comment more of a suggestion than a question. When Monica nodded, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. "I'll hop the next flight out if you need me to."
"Thanks," Monica whispered, forcing a smile. "But Nora and Mark are here. We'll be fine."
"You're sure this is what you want to do?" Ross asked, giving her one last chance to back out.
"I'm sure," Monica answered, nodding resolutely. "It's Chandler," she told them, shrugging helplessly. The others considered that and finally nodded, convinced. She was right; this was Chandler they were talking about. In the end, that was all the validation any of the friends needed.
Monica knocked gently on the door to Chandler's room before swinging it open, smiling when her eyes fell on Chandler.
"Hi," she greeted him, opening the door all the way so that Ross, Rachel, Phoebe, and Joey could file in after her.
"Hey," Chandler returned, including all of them in his smile, clearly happy to see them. "What are you all doing here?"
"Well, we uh – we came to say goodbye," Ross informed him awkwardly. "We're leaving for New York this afternoon."
Chandler's eyes widened briefly in surprise, then he nodded slowly, carefully avoiding eye contact with any of them.
"Oh," he commented quietly, trying unsuccessfully to hide his disappointment as he picked at a piece of fuzz on the blanket covering his legs. "I guess you have to get back to work, huh?" he offered, glancing up at them hopefully, begging them to agree to the excuse he gave them, to assure him that they weren't leaving him now for good.
"Yeah," Rachel put in, reaching out to rub Chandler's shoulder reassuringly. "We all took off without much notice…"
"Well, um…" Chandler paused, fighting for words to express the depth of his emotion. "Thank you – for coming here. I, I can't tell you how much…"
"Hey," Phoebe interrupted, smiling with exaggerated cheerfulness. "Don't let your aura go all burgundy on us. You were finally out of the puke green stage!"
Chandler's face broke into a sincere smile, and Phoebe leaned over to hug him. Rachel was next, then Ross and finally Joey. As Joey stood up and tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears out of his eyes, Chandler glanced at Monica, who was standing beside his bed, watching the ritual with a tiny smile on her face.
"Mon?" he questioned, interrupting her thoughts and making her turn toward him. He smiled slightly and tried to give his next words a teasing lilt. "Don't I get a goodbye from you?"
Monica smiled tenderly, then shook her head. "No, you don't." She paused just long enough for his eyes to cloud over before hurrying on. "Because I'm not leaving."
"You…you're not leaving?" Chandler repeated, not comprehending the implications of that statement. "Why not?"
"Do you want me to?" Monica asked, feigning hurt.
"No…no, of course I don't. But…why…?"
Monica glanced over at their friends, who were watching the scene unfold with a mixture of smiles, then back at Chandler. "Because," she told him, sitting down beside his bed and leaning toward him in an attempt to create a little privacy. "I feel like I should be here."
Chandler stared into her eyes, slightly squinting his own as he silently asked her if she was sure, and she responded with an imperceptible nod.
"Thank you," he whispered, resisting with difficulty the overwhelming urge to kiss her.
"You're welcome," Monica whispered back solemnly, stroking his hair back from his forehead with one hand.
"We, uh, should be going," Joey interrupted, clearing his throat. The others nodded in agreement as Chandler and Monica both turned their heads to look at them.
"I'll walk you out," Monica offered, standing up from her seat beside Chandler's bed and squeezing his hand.
"Hey, guys," Chandler said, holding up a hand to stop them from leaving. "Thank you – again – so much. I'll, uh, see you soon?" he finished, his voice rising in a question and his tone revealing his vulnerability.
"Soon, buddy," Ross assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Chandler's smile reflected his relief that they weren't walking out of his life forever. He exchanged kisses with Rachel and Phoebe, then watched as Monica ushered them out of the room before turning to look expectantly at Joey, who was still standing in the same place beside Chandler's bed.
"I'll catch up in a minute," Joey told her, urging her to go on without him. Monica glanced at Chandler and nodded, leaving the two men alone in the room.
Joey took a seat in the chair recently occupied by Monica, and looked down at the floor before leveling his eyes on Chandler.
"Chandler," Joey began, his expression revealing his discomfort with the situation and the words he was about to say. "I'm not really sure how to say this, but I think I have to." Joey paused again, struggling for the words to tactfully express his thoughts. "Chandler, you - you tore Monica to pieces when you left her. You weren't there to see what it did to her, but I was. We all were."
"Joey – "
"Just – let me finish, okay? We can see the way she looks at you, Chandler. She loves you, dammit, and it doesn't matter what Rachel or Phoebe or Ross or I think of that. We want you both to be happy. That's the truth, Chandler, and I think that's what you want too. But – it's not that easy, and from where I'm sitting, Monica is still the one standing to lose the most. So I'm giving you fair warning, Chandler. You hurt her like that again…You do anything to make her unhappy and – and Ross will be the least of your worries." Joey stopped and stared into Chandler's eyes to make sure he understood. "Okay?"
Chandler looked toward the end of the bed and nodded slowly, avoiding Joey's gaze. He couldn't argue with that. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that's fair."
"Okay." Joey looked at his friend, completely at a loss as to how to make the transition from threatening to supportive. Finally he grinned and leaned over to pull Chandler into as big of a bear hug as they could manage.
"Get better soon," Joey told him as he pulled away. "And, hey…if you ever have an urge to visit New York," Joey hinted with a wink as he headed for the door, "I've got an extra bedroom."
Chandler
brooded over Joey's words – all of them – for the rest of the afternoon, making
Monica question his distant demeanor.
He tried to put her off with vague comments about a headache, which only
served to put her into nearly full-blown panic mode. For a moment, Chandler was afraid he was going to have to
physically restrain her so she wouldn't go in search of a doctor and drag him
back into Chandler's room.
When Mark came in to say goodbye before heading back to the townhouse, Chandler saw his chance and convinced Monica to go with him, gently suggesting that she needed a good night's rest. After repeatedly claiming that she was fine, not tired at all, Monica finally relented, promising that she would be back first thing the next morning.
She kissed him before she left.
Just a little peck on the lips, nothing spectacular in comparison with some of their other kisses, but amazing in its own right. His lips burned with the memory for the next hour, making it impossible for him to stop thinking about it. He'd forgotten just how deeply the lightest touch of her lips could affect him, but now he remembered all too well. And quickly following every wave of warmth was the knowledge that he had left all of that behind. He had left her asleep in her bed while he walked away from everything they had been - everything they could have been.
Chandler sighed and stared up at the ceiling as his thoughts flew randomly back and forth across his mind, the next one presenting itself before he could properly process the first. For a moment, he considered making a list, and even went so far as to wonder if there was a pad of paper somewhere in the room before he rejected the idea. A list implied logic, and if there was one thing he was absolutely sure of, it was that all of this was completely free of logic. If logical thought had ever entered into the equation, he wouldn't even be in the hospital room at all.
But he was - lying alone in a hotel bed, with a cast restricting his movements and painkillers dulling his thoughts just enough to make them bearable. Fighting with his memories, remembering the way they used to be, when everything was so easy but seemed so hard.
Remembering the way that he loved her.
Just like he had begged her to remember in the few words he had written before escaping from something so good it scared him. He wondered if she was thinking about those same words at that same moment, and then he realized that she had to be sleeping in the same room in Mark's apartment where Chandler himself had awakened so often from nightmares in those first few months. He closed his eyes and prayed that her sleep would be peaceful, that the heartache of the past would not visit her tonight.
He knew there would be no such luck for him. His exchange with Joey took away all hope of that, though the words had not been a surprise. But hearing Joey say it out loud – tell him how he had destroyed her, how much she had suffered because of him – it only made him realize that they couldn't go on pretending, no matter how much he wanted to. Monica deserved better than that, and he was determined that this time, he would give it to her.
He couldn't hurt her like that again. He couldn't even take the risk that he might. He was going to protect her this time, at any cost.
Chandler stared at the ceiling for the rest of the night, his heart slowly breaking all over again as he reached the same conclusion over and over. He couldn't break her heart, and there was only one way to ensure that he wouldn't.
He had to let her go.
Remember me when
you're out walking
When the snow falls high outside your door
Late at night when you're not sleeping
And moonlight
falls across your floor
When I can't hurt you anymore…
"Please Remember Me" (Crowell, Jennings)
To Be Continued…
