Evanescent

Chapter 7

Ladies and Gentlemen…it is SO summer, a woo-hoo!!! (well, it is for me anyway…) I survived 10th grade relatively unscarred :-D but, um, one piece of advice for anyone wanting to take it…don't, I repeat, do NOT take honors precalc…just…don't…trust me, lol. If you do, you'll want to shoot your brains out *sighs* thank god that class is over…but, hey, let's not dwell on that…let's dwell on summer, shall we? Hehe, dwell is such an awesome word…but anyway, here's the next part of the fic…

Rachel and Monica stood in the elevator, impatiently watching as the numbers lit up one by one as they passed by each floor, the length of time between each seeming longer than the one before. An eternity between the time the doors opened, doctors, patients and visitors got off, and it closed again, the number of times the doors opened and closed seeming infinite.

"Why, on a Monday morning when you're dreading getting into work, and all you want are those few more seconds before you get there, does the elevator only take a few seconds…no one getting on and off, it doesn't take forever, just, bam, you're there," Rachel finally said. "But then, when you're actually in a hurry, when you actually want to get where you're going, it takes forever…"

"Cause life's just that cruel," Monica replied evenly, not looking at her as she said it, but still staring at the doors, waiting for them to open as they finally reached the floor they needed to get off on.

Rachel glanced at Monica for only a moment before they both stepped off the elevator, searching for Ross, Joey, or Phoebe.

"Mon, Rach," they both looked in the direction of Ross' voice, hurrying over when they finally spotted him.

"What the hell happened?"

"Is he okay?"

Monica and Rachel both began asking questions at the same time.

"Hey, you guys, just…slow down," he said, trying to stay calm himself. "Um…" he trailed off, taking a deep breath, willing himself to speak. "He-he slit his wrists," he began quietly, trying not to register the looks on the girls' faces as he spoke, "and they said that he-that he lost a lot of blood…but they really won't tell us anything else," he paused again, looking over in Joey's direction, where Phoebe was also sitting. "Joey found him…and he-he hasn't said a word since I got here…"

"Can we-can we see him?" Monica finally asked, and Ross shook his head.

"They said that they'd come back out and let us know when we can…"

Monica sighed, sinking into one of the unpleasantly hard waiting room chairs.

"I shouldn't have left," she finally said, almost whispering the words she'd been thinking since they'd gotten the call from Ross.

"What?" Rachel looked up at her.

"Earlier…we had this stupid fight, me and Chandler…and he yelled, so I yelled, and I just…left," she sighed again. "I should've stayed…"

"Mon, you couldn't have known," Ross said. "You can't blame yourself. It is not your fault."

"But what if I'd stayed and talked to him instead of yelling and leaving?" she turned to face her brother. "You don't know!"

"And you don't know that it would have made a difference."

"And you don't know that it wouldn't have," Monica looked up at him, trying hard to hold back her tears.

Ross looked down at the blue and white checkered tile floor as he took a deep breath. When he finally looked back up at her, she was already looking away.

"Do you want to read the note?" he finally whispered, and both Monica's and Rachel's heads snapped up at the question.

"Sure," Rachel said quietly, Monica nodding.

He took the folded piece of notebook paper out of his pocket, and when Monica took it from his hands, she suddenly realized that that was what he'd been writing when she'd walked in earlier. She slowly unfolded it, holding it so that both she and Rachel could read it.

There were parts about each of them, for each of them. Thanking Joey for being the best roommate ever, Ross for being the best friend, Phoebe for her contagious happiness, Rachel for being there, telling each of them how much he loved them. Monica read through all of it, seeing the part about her last. She took a deep breath, not sure that she could handle reading it.

Mon, I'm sorry for yelling at you and for making you cry. And, yes, of course I know that by yelling at you I made you cry. I regretted it the second you slammed the door, and I'm sorry for hurting you. Thank you for caring…I love you.

And then he skipped two lines, writing the words It's not your fault in the middle of the third. But it was how he ended it that sent shivers up her spine.

So hold me when I'm here

Love me when I'm gone

You can hold me when I'm scared

But you won't always be there

So love me when I'm gone

~*~

"Mon," Rachel nudged her, and Monica sat up slowly, realizing that Rachel had woken her up because a doctor had finally come out to tell them what was going on. She stood up immediately, following Rachel over to where they were standing.

She listened as the doctor spoke, not even able to concentrate fully on his words as the whole situation began to sink in. She caught the word "coma" and that his reply had been "yes" when Ross asked if they could see him now, but the details hadn't registered. She sat back down between Rachel and Phoebe, still in a trance, watching Ross follow the doctor down the hallway.

It was all suddenly so real.

She was still aware of the people talking around her, the doctors being paged over the intercom, the people coming and going…but it was all as if it were a dream.

What if she had walked in 15 minutes later? Would she have been the one to find him? Lying on the floor, covered in blood? She could suddenly understand why Joey wasn't speaking, was just sitting there, staring into space…

"Mon," Rachel said. "Monica," she repeated as Ross came back. "You wanna go first, or…?"

"Sure," Monica said quietly, standing up. She walked down hallway, staring at the desolate hospital walls, stopping when she got to his room, pausing for a moment before walking in.

She slowly walked over, sitting down in the chair beside his bed. Taking a deep shaky breath, she reached for his hand. He was pale, very pale, but beside that and the stitches covered by bandages across his wrists, he looked no different than usual.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered, the tears once again beginning to form. "I'm sorry I yelled at you and I'm sorry I left…I should've stayed," she paused, wiping her eyes with her free hand. "I'm sorry," she repeated, kissing his hand. "But please don't leave," she choked out. "Cause I'll love you when you're gone, but I'll-I'll love you even more if you stay…" she trailed off once again, finally allowing herself to break down crying as she buried her face in his chest, praying to God or anyone else who might be listening that he'd be okay.

~*~

They say there are different levels of consciousness…many levels between awake, asleep, and dead…and though you're aware, you can hear the talking, you can't feel what's happening…it all feels like a dream…as if you're hearing parts of someone else's dream…or hearing a television from the next room…and though I almost want to fight it off and wake up…a part of me is already too far gone…and it's just so much easier not to…

Roaming through this darkness

I'm alive, but I'm alone

Part of me is fighting this

But part of me is gone

(When I'm Gone, 3 Doors Down)

Tbc…

please review…thanks a bunch :) and, um, my first real day of work is tomorrow…wish me luck…