A/N - Thanks for the reviews! Yes I know this is far-fetched but who wants
to read stories about everyday things? Sorry I'm not insulting you, I do
value your opinion but well. . .anyway. This is Chapter 13 and I'm thinking
they'll probably be two more after this. I've already written one but I
might make the two into one if you get me? Also I know Rachel hasn't been
in it for a while, and neither has anyone else. I'm sorry but this is just
really about M&C and I couldn't think of a way to bring them back. OK. . .
Chapter 13 - Blame
Chandler continued to stare at the letter, not daring to believe what it said. Not daring to believe that his children had written this to him. Written a letter to tell him that this was the end. To tell him that they couldn't cope. To tell him what an idiot he'd been, to tell him that it was all his fault. That he'd failed. That someone had been testing him and he'd failed. That he didn't deserve to have four kids and now the most perfect granddaughter in the world.
Suddenly the living room door burst open and Monica walked in. As soon as she saw Chandler however she turned around again and was just about to leave when Hope began to cry. Almost in slow motion Monica turned around again and surveyed the scene.
Chandler was sitting on the couch with what looked like tears in his eyes, there was a piece of paper in his left hand and a baby cradled in his lap. Monica closed her eyes and re-opened them, again taking a look around. She couldn't believe what she saw. She hadn't spoken to Chandler in months but now, as she saw him crying she wanted nothing more than to hold him until all the hurt was gone. She walked over to him, but didn't dare sit down. Slowly she unclasped the piece of paper from his clenched fist and began to read.
She reached the end and for a few seconds said nothing. As soon as the words had sunk in she went straight into 'Mom Mode' as Chandler used to call it. Suddenly nothing mattered more to her than getting her kids back. She raced upstairs grabbing the phone and calling 911 on the way. Before two minutes had passed she was racing out the door, no longer caring that she wasn't wearing a coat. She was racing towards the place she knew her kids would be. Towards the only place that would make her happy. Towards the place that she should have gone to months ago. Towards her future.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As she rounded the corner of the desolate street she felt the panic rising in her. All the questions she had ignored in the past five minutes raced into her brain, echoing around her, taunting her.
What if your too late?
It's your fault
What if they're not here?
It's your fault
What if you never see them again?
It's your fault
What if. . .?
Your fault!
What if . . .?
Your fault!
The taunts grew louder and louder as Monica ran faster and faster. She reached the door and knocked loudly, praying someone would hear, praying anybody would hear.
Slowly the door began to open, Monica didn't allow the person to ask her name, she ran straight passed them, up the first flight of stairs and towards the back hallway. Counting down the doors as she went, 'Three. . .Two. . .One. . .'
As she ran in she didn't know what she expected, them to be hanging, blood everywhere from their slit wrists, she certainly didn't expect what she saw.
David and Eloise sat against the back window. David's arms were around Eloise's back and they both appeared to be smiling. They looked so in love. They looked so asleep. But before Monica could go any further towards them two green men rushed in. (A/N - I have no idea what uniform paramedics in America wear, but in England it's a green suit so I'm goin with that OK?! LOL)
"OK!" The first one shouted, "Probable opiate OD. You got an output on that one?" he asked his college who was feeling David's neck The first one was doing the same to Eloise.
The paramedic shook his head. Monica didn't understand. Why was he shaking his head? He couldn't shake his head. Shaking his head meant . . .no and David couldn't be . . .Not before they'd talked. He was only 16 for Christ's sake! He couldn't be shaking his head, David had a daughter. How could Eloise raise a child without David? But in the next moment that question was irrelevant. The first paramedic shook his head too. Monica wanted to shout at them both, she wanted to yell at them until they did something but nothing came out. Instead she watched as they lifted them onto a trolley and covered their young faces with blankets. Neither one seemed that have noticed that Monica was still in the room, for they said loudly as they walked out,
"We'll have to get a doctor to certify it. God if I see one more drug overdose today!"
His colleague laughed and added, "Yeah but they're doing us a favour! It's two more junkies off the street right?"
Monica found her voice then. She lunged at them pounding at them, begging them to try something anything. But they wouldn't. Nothing would bring them back. They were gone. At only a few hours old Hope was an orphan.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Monica sat alone in the small hospital room. The receptionist had moved her here as soon as she'd managed to explain why she'd attacked the paramedics. Apparently Chandler was on his way but at that moment all Monica wanted was her kids. She'd always told herself she'd sort things out with Chandler tomorrow, she'd go and see Eloise, tomorrow. And now tomorrow would never come. She'd never be able to tell her she loved her. Or that none of the stuff that had happened mattered. That Monica didn't care if she and David were together, she didn't care if she was a teenage mom. That she loved her no matter what she did, that as long as she was happy then Monica was happy. She'd never get that chance though; she'd thrown it away because of her stupid pride. She'd always hated apologising and now because of that two of her kids were dead. It just didn't seem fair.
Everything's fair, the little voice said again, you had your chance, with Eloise, with David, with Chandler. You had your chance with them all and you just threw it away. Told yourself you'd do something about it tomorrow, next week, next month. But no they'll never be a tomorrow, or a next week, or a next month. You threw away all your chances Monica, and that's what you can't get your head around. The little voice wouldn't shut up. She tried to yell at them, but she couldn't. She knew they were right. She had thrown all her chances away. David and Eloise had come to the house almost every week for months and she'd always let Chandler turn them away. And now they were gone, she'd never see them again. Belle and Clare would never see their big brother and sister again. Chandler had lost his wife and now he'd lost his son, and Hope. A baby who should have two parents fussing over her was on an orphan on the day she was born. And the only person Monica could blame was herself.
A/N - REVIEW!!!! And thanks to everyone who already has : ) I've had hardly any flames recently so thanks you so much : )
Chapter 13 - Blame
Chandler continued to stare at the letter, not daring to believe what it said. Not daring to believe that his children had written this to him. Written a letter to tell him that this was the end. To tell him that they couldn't cope. To tell him what an idiot he'd been, to tell him that it was all his fault. That he'd failed. That someone had been testing him and he'd failed. That he didn't deserve to have four kids and now the most perfect granddaughter in the world.
Suddenly the living room door burst open and Monica walked in. As soon as she saw Chandler however she turned around again and was just about to leave when Hope began to cry. Almost in slow motion Monica turned around again and surveyed the scene.
Chandler was sitting on the couch with what looked like tears in his eyes, there was a piece of paper in his left hand and a baby cradled in his lap. Monica closed her eyes and re-opened them, again taking a look around. She couldn't believe what she saw. She hadn't spoken to Chandler in months but now, as she saw him crying she wanted nothing more than to hold him until all the hurt was gone. She walked over to him, but didn't dare sit down. Slowly she unclasped the piece of paper from his clenched fist and began to read.
She reached the end and for a few seconds said nothing. As soon as the words had sunk in she went straight into 'Mom Mode' as Chandler used to call it. Suddenly nothing mattered more to her than getting her kids back. She raced upstairs grabbing the phone and calling 911 on the way. Before two minutes had passed she was racing out the door, no longer caring that she wasn't wearing a coat. She was racing towards the place she knew her kids would be. Towards the only place that would make her happy. Towards the place that she should have gone to months ago. Towards her future.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As she rounded the corner of the desolate street she felt the panic rising in her. All the questions she had ignored in the past five minutes raced into her brain, echoing around her, taunting her.
What if your too late?
It's your fault
What if they're not here?
It's your fault
What if you never see them again?
It's your fault
What if. . .?
Your fault!
What if . . .?
Your fault!
The taunts grew louder and louder as Monica ran faster and faster. She reached the door and knocked loudly, praying someone would hear, praying anybody would hear.
Slowly the door began to open, Monica didn't allow the person to ask her name, she ran straight passed them, up the first flight of stairs and towards the back hallway. Counting down the doors as she went, 'Three. . .Two. . .One. . .'
As she ran in she didn't know what she expected, them to be hanging, blood everywhere from their slit wrists, she certainly didn't expect what she saw.
David and Eloise sat against the back window. David's arms were around Eloise's back and they both appeared to be smiling. They looked so in love. They looked so asleep. But before Monica could go any further towards them two green men rushed in. (A/N - I have no idea what uniform paramedics in America wear, but in England it's a green suit so I'm goin with that OK?! LOL)
"OK!" The first one shouted, "Probable opiate OD. You got an output on that one?" he asked his college who was feeling David's neck The first one was doing the same to Eloise.
The paramedic shook his head. Monica didn't understand. Why was he shaking his head? He couldn't shake his head. Shaking his head meant . . .no and David couldn't be . . .Not before they'd talked. He was only 16 for Christ's sake! He couldn't be shaking his head, David had a daughter. How could Eloise raise a child without David? But in the next moment that question was irrelevant. The first paramedic shook his head too. Monica wanted to shout at them both, she wanted to yell at them until they did something but nothing came out. Instead she watched as they lifted them onto a trolley and covered their young faces with blankets. Neither one seemed that have noticed that Monica was still in the room, for they said loudly as they walked out,
"We'll have to get a doctor to certify it. God if I see one more drug overdose today!"
His colleague laughed and added, "Yeah but they're doing us a favour! It's two more junkies off the street right?"
Monica found her voice then. She lunged at them pounding at them, begging them to try something anything. But they wouldn't. Nothing would bring them back. They were gone. At only a few hours old Hope was an orphan.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Monica sat alone in the small hospital room. The receptionist had moved her here as soon as she'd managed to explain why she'd attacked the paramedics. Apparently Chandler was on his way but at that moment all Monica wanted was her kids. She'd always told herself she'd sort things out with Chandler tomorrow, she'd go and see Eloise, tomorrow. And now tomorrow would never come. She'd never be able to tell her she loved her. Or that none of the stuff that had happened mattered. That Monica didn't care if she and David were together, she didn't care if she was a teenage mom. That she loved her no matter what she did, that as long as she was happy then Monica was happy. She'd never get that chance though; she'd thrown it away because of her stupid pride. She'd always hated apologising and now because of that two of her kids were dead. It just didn't seem fair.
Everything's fair, the little voice said again, you had your chance, with Eloise, with David, with Chandler. You had your chance with them all and you just threw it away. Told yourself you'd do something about it tomorrow, next week, next month. But no they'll never be a tomorrow, or a next week, or a next month. You threw away all your chances Monica, and that's what you can't get your head around. The little voice wouldn't shut up. She tried to yell at them, but she couldn't. She knew they were right. She had thrown all her chances away. David and Eloise had come to the house almost every week for months and she'd always let Chandler turn them away. And now they were gone, she'd never see them again. Belle and Clare would never see their big brother and sister again. Chandler had lost his wife and now he'd lost his son, and Hope. A baby who should have two parents fussing over her was on an orphan on the day she was born. And the only person Monica could blame was herself.
A/N - REVIEW!!!! And thanks to everyone who already has : ) I've had hardly any flames recently so thanks you so much : )
