Home… hard to know what it is if you've never had one

Home… I can't say where it is but I know I'm going home

That's where the hurt is

I know it aches

How your heart it breaks

And you can only take so much

Walk on, walk on

Leave it behind

You've got to leave it behind

(Walk On~U2)

Regression

~Revelations~

A large hand was coming down on him…smothering him.  He struggled to free himself, but the hand was too large, and it's owner too strong.  He tried to scream, but his cries were muffled.  The pain was unreal…and the nightmares were just beginning.

Chandler shot up in bed, sweating profusely, and panting.  He lay back down on the bed, and pulled the covers up around him tightly.  He couldn't do this alone…as much as he didn't want his friends involved, the silent nights were becoming too much to bear.

It had been six weeks since he'd moved out of Monica's apartment.  He hadn't spoken to any of them since, and it was killing him.  Sometimes, he would find himself wandering back into the neighborhood, his heart telling him to let them help him.  But then he would picture the looks on their faces when he told them the truth, and he would chicken out.

He'd talked to Renee about it, and she'd suggested having Monica or one of the others sit in on one of his sessions.  He had been reluctant, because he wasn't always fully aware of what he was saying when he was under hypnosis.  But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if it was the best way to deal with telling Monica.  He would be under, and would not see her immediate reaction—it might make it all easier.

He tossed and turned in bed for several hours, before finally falling into an uncomfortable slumber at morning's light.

Monica was staring out the picture window, trying her damndest not to cry.  It was difficult, but she knew that she had to eventually move on…like the others had seemed to.

Losing Chandler so suddenly had hit the group like a sudden death would have.  He'd simply…disappeared from their lives.  They had all mourned the loss as though it was a death, and eventually the other four had been able to move on.  But Monica was still weighed down by the dark cloud that hovered over her.  She didn't know what to do…she felt like she should be helping Chandler somehow…that she should be searching for him.  But she had made a promise, and she knew that he would never forgive her if she broke it.

A sudden knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.  Drying her eyes, she padded over to the door, and opened it slowly.

"Chandler," Monica whispered, as her eyes fell onto the gaunt, shadow of a man that stood before her.

"Mon, I…I can't do this…can you…can you forgive me for—"

"Oh, Chandler," Monica let out a loud sob, and fell into him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.

"Mon…I need you to…come with me," Chandler said softly.

Monica pulled away, and looked at Chandler, confused.

"Wh-where are we going?" Monica wiped the fresh tears from her eyes, and took his hand in hers.

"Therapy," Chandler smiled sadly, and gripped her hand tightly.

~*~

"Monica, it's so good to meet you.  Chandler has told me so much about you," Renee smiled warmly, and shook Monica's hand.

"All good things, I hope," Monica smiled at Chandler.

"All wonderful things," Renee affirmed, and gestured toward the sofa.

Monica and Chandler took a seat on the sofa, as Renee prepared the room for the hypnosis.  She finished, and took a seat in her chair, before looking straight at Monica.

"Monica, I am not sure how much Chandler has told you about these sessions, but it is important that you understand what is about to happen.  This form of therapy helps to pull out memories from Chandler's past—memories that he has buried so deep within him, that he refuses to acknowledge them consciously.  There are things that Chandler will say that will be shocking, and disturbing, but you need to remember two things; one, do not react—do not cry out loudly, do not touch Chandler.  He will be under, and it is important that he remain undisturbed. And two, it is important that you understand that nothing you hear in here today can leave this room.  Do you understand?"

Monica took a sharp breath, and looked over at Chandler, who was looking at his hands.  She placed her hand on his, and nodded at Renee.

"Okay, let's get started.  Monica, I am going to ask you to sit on the other end of the sofa, and to try and be as quiet as you can."

Monica nodded, and gave Chandler's hand a reassuring squeeze, before following the Doctor's orders.

*(AN: consider the above a reader's disclaimer as well.  What follows IS disturbing.)

"Where are you now?" Renee's voice was serene and quiet.  The session had started twenty minutes earlier, and so far Monica had not heard anything out of the ordinary from Chandler.  He talked a lot about his parent's divorce, and how he felt in subsequent years.  They were now talking about Chandler's feelings about Nora's second marriage to a television producer by the name of Harold.  Chandler had been 11 years old when they'd married.

"I'm in my bedroom."

"Are you asleep?"

"I am…pretending."

"Your eyes are closed?"

"Yes."

"Do you hear anything?"

"I can hear…footsteps."

"How do you feel?"

"I'm scared."

"Why?"

"I know that it is…"

"What?"

"I know who it is."

"Is it your mother?"

"No."

"Is it Harold?"

"He is in my bedroom."

"Are your eyes open?"

"No.  I am still pretending."

"What is he doing?"

"He is watching me…I can hear him breathing."

Monica felt her heart constrict…perhaps that was why Chandler hated people watching him sleep?  She felt herself trembling, her head knowing what was coming, but her heart refusing to believe it to be true.

"What is he doing, Chandler?" Renee asked softly.

"He…he's touching me," Chandler's voice had been reduced to a whisper.

"Is he hurting you?"

"No…"

"Are your eyes still closed?"

"Y-yes…I want him to go away, but he is holding me down…he's so strong…"

"What is he doing to you, Chandler?"

"He…he's hurting me," Chandler sobbed, his hands outstretched as though he were fighting someone off.

"Are your eyes still closed?" Renee asked again.  In the room, Chandler's eyes were squeezed shut.

"He is…hurting me."

"Chandler, I want you to go to your safe place.  Remember your safe place?"

"He won't stop…make him stop!" Chandler's cries were desperate and made Monica wince.  She had to fight to stay in her seat.

"Chandler, your safe place, go to your safe place," Renee was speaking quickly now, repeating herself over and over as Chandler continued ranting.

"He's inside of me…I don't want him inside of me...please help me!"

"Your safe place, Chandler now!  Your safe place, go, go to your safe place!"

Chandler took a deep, shaky breath, and his body relaxed slightly.  Monica's body was racked with sobs, and she hugged her knees, and bit down on her lip so hard that it was now bleeding.

"Chandler, open your eyes.  Come home."

Chandler opened his eyes slowly, and took a deep breath.  Renee looked him in the eyes, and talked him down some more.  When he finally seemed calm, she sat back in her chair, and looked over at Monica.

Chandler had forgotten that Monica was there; he started, when he turned and saw her sitting in the opposite corner of the sofa.

"Mon—" Chandler started.

Monica let out a strangled cry, and scooted across the sofa as quickly as she could.

"Chandler, are you okay?" Monica wrapped her arms around Chandler and placed her head on his chest.

Chandler was taken aback by Monica's reaction.  He was certain that she would be appalled by what had happened, and refuse to even look at him, much less touch him again.  Her reaction was not only surprising, it was remarkably comforting, and Chandler felt his soul warm to her embrace, and to her reactive sobs. 

He'd never felt safer.