Tears Chapter 2
Okay chapter 2 is finally up. Sorry to take so long but I've been ill. Hope this prevents your heads from exploding (especially Mari!). I will try to make this one longer
Disclaimer
I don't own any characters from Friends. Not one little bit. Zilch.
Before I begin, I need to say a couple of things. Firstly, the living arrangement in New York is as follows. Phoebe and Rachel live together in Mon's old apartment. Ross lives in ugly naked guys old place and Chandler still lives at no. 19. Joey recently moved out because he felt as an up and coming actor he needed his own place (!) The whole Ross getting married another two times thing, never happened but he and Rachel did date and go 'on a break'. Monica hasn't seen the gang in 3 years. Also I know nothing about time differences between Seattle and New York but lets just presume that Monica arrived in New York the morning after she left John.
New York City
Chandler was pulled violently out of a deep sleep by a sharp knocking on his door. Sitting up slowly, he tried to clear the fog from his head. He glanced at his clock that read 2.00 am and wondered who on earth was at his front door in the middle of the night. The knocking continued as he turned the possibilities over in his mind.
He knew that it wasn't Rachel; she was out of town on a fashion conference. It probably wasn't Phoebe because she had had a date that evening. Even more unlikely was the possibility that it was Ross banging on his front door. That left just one conclusion, Joey. Doubtless, he has lost the key to his new apartment, Chandler thought to himself wryly. His thoughts were interrupted as the volume and desperation of the knocking was increased. Exasperated he called out,
" Cool it Jo, I'm coming!" as he untangled his feet from the bedclothes and ambled to the front door.
Chandler opened the door leisurely and received the biggest shock of his life. Standing on the other side was a woman he hadn't seen in nearly 3 years. His gasp was audible,
"Oh my God! Monica, what are you doing here?"
Her silence spook words, as he stood gaping. Chandler was more than shocked, he was appalled. The Monica that stood before him was a mere ghost of the past. A shell of the woman he had once known. Her face was gaunt and streaked with tears. A livid red gash on her forehead stood out in stark contrast to her whiteness. Chandler's gape widened as his eyes focused on the rest of her body. Her shoulders were slumped and water was pouring down her body in rivulets from her soaking hair. Nature's cruel joke against her.
Chandler remained riveted to the spot, he couldn't drag his gaze away from the horror she was trying, unsuccessfully to hide beneath her coat. Her wrist was twisted beyond recognition; yellow tinged bruising was spreading its diseased grip to her disjointed fingers.
" Oh my God Monica, what happened," Chandler stuttered as his tongue caught up with the thoughts racing around in his head. His words seemed to bounce harshly back at him off her eerily still body. Her only movement was the involuntary shaking of her shoulders as a wretched sob escaped.
"Monica," Chandler said more loudly, trying to penetrate the invisible barrier around her silent form. She lifted her head slowly, as her empty eyes met with his she snapped out of her daze.
"Help me please, Chandler" she sobbed as the barriers crumbled and she stumbled through the door into his arms. Her shoulders heaved and sobs wracked through her body as she sunk into Chandler's grip. She had thought nobody had been home, she had convinced herself. Having already tried no. 20 she had prepared herself for the inevitable, no one would answer and she would have to go 'home'. As Chandler tentatively stroked her back emotions she had been restraining for years poured out. She wept, thankful that she was finally back where she belonged, this was home.
As Monica muffled her cries in his shoulder Chandler, not wanting to hurt her, lead her slowly to his barca lounger.
It was at this point that he lifted his head and noticed the forlorn figure stood at the door. A snapshot of innocence, Chloe had an expression of childish bemusement on her face and was clutching a tattered doll closely to her chest.
" What's happenin' " she asked Chandler. Her voice broke his heart, full of wonderment, not yet tainted by the cruel world. Or so he thought.
"I dunno honey, perhaps you could tell me," Chandler gritted his teeth as he wondered what the hell to do. Out of nowhere Mon and Chloe had arrived on his doorstep and he was lost, completely and utterly. He stepped tentatively towards Chloe who he hadn't seen since she was in diapers,
" Hey Chloe, I'm your Uncle Chandler," he whispered as he stretched out a hand towards her.
" Hey Uncle Chandler," answered Chloe, guardedly. She didn't know this man and she didn't know if she wanted to. Mummy had hugged him though, so he must be okay, she thought to herself as she took his hand. Mummy hardly ever hugged Daddy. He hugged her when he was saying 'sorry' but she hardly ever hugged back. Chloe already thought sorry was one of the most untruthful words in the English language. Chandler walked over to the barca lounger, taking Chloe with him, and stared with concern at Monica. Her shoulders were slumped and she was obviously going into shock,
"Mon we need to go to hospital,"
She shook her head violently and continued to shiver.
"But Monica you're shaking and your wrist needs to be looked at…."
Monica drew a jagged breath and shook her head again. Her sharp blue eyes, dulled by years of pain, started to well up with more tears.
Chloe tugged at his hand and Chandler looked at her perfect face. She looks so like Monica he noted to himself ruefully,
"Make Mommy stop crying," Chloe asked pitifully.
Then the day's emotions finally caught up with her, her bottom lip trembled, and she began to cry. Chandler looked helplessly from mother to daughter. He picked Chloe up in his arms and lifted the receiver of the phone.
"Hi Ross. It's Chandler. No I'm fine but I need your help, it's Monica…"
2 weeks later
Chandler stepped into the darkened bedroom with a mug of soup. Monica was lying with her back to him. Hair dark hair was spread out like a fan, cutting the whiteness of the pillow her head was lying on. He walked into the room and placed the mug next to her on the bedside table,
"Dinner is served Mon," silence greeted his cheery statement but he knew she was awake. " Please Mon," he sighed, "Eat it, just for me please." His pleas fell on deliberately deaf ears.
Chandler was worried. He was beyond worried, he was scared. Monica had eaten hardly anything since they had returned from the hospital 2 weeks ago, she was wasting away before him.
That night had been, without a doubt, the worst in his life. After Ross had come over it had taken them a full 3 hours to get Monica to hospital, all the time with Chloe whimpering in the background. Chandler remembered the look of shocked amazement that Ross' face had worn when he first saw the state of his 'baby sister'. He supposed he had looked the same when he first saw her.
When Monica had finally gotten treatment, he and Ross had been faced with the full extent of her injuries. She had broken her wrist in several places, had 2 dislocated fingers and 3 cracked ribs. Along with this, angry bruises spread across her body like a disease.
Chandler didn't want to know how this had happened to her, but he had a fair idea. John. In the last two weeks, Chloe had spoken up about how Daddy had 'hurt Mommy real bad this time' Chandler tried to block this unpleasant thought from his mind but it kept coming back, taunting him with the ugly implications within Chloe's statement.
Amongst the gang, there was an unspoken agreement not to mention anything about it.
At first, Ross had been livid. Chandler himself felt this rage bubbling deep down inside him, but they had all agreed not to do anything rash for Monica's sake.
The gang themselves were shell-shocked. Each one trying to deal with Monica, Chloe and their problems in their own way. It had been agreed that Monica should stay at Chandler's. I was just easier that way. Everyday the gang would come, visit her, and try to break her silence in different ways. Rachel would fill her in on all the latest juicy gossip. Phoebe would try to cleanse her aura. Joey would practice his lines to her. Chandler would just talk to her like they used, except she used to reply. Unsurprisingly it was Ross who had the biggest problem with Monica's enforced silence. He said that she reminded him of a living corpse in a silent tomb. The others would tell him to be quiet, especially in front of Chloe, but secretly they all agreed.
Chloe, herself was doing better than anyone may have hoped. She was a talkative child and she enjoyed finally having people to chatter to. She would always become silent, however, when she visited her Mom. It scared her. Even in the worst days in Seattle, her Mom would talk to her and reassure her. Now that was gone and Chloe didn't know what to do.
Chandler turned all these thoughts over in his head as he stroked Monica's hair. He remembered how the last thing she had said to him was,
"Help me please, Chandler"
He wanted to, he really did, but he didn't know how,
"Please let me help you Mon" He whispered softly as he kissed her on the cheek and left the room.
Monica felt his lips brush against her forehead and sighed. She wasn't being silent to hurt him, to hurt any of them. It was just easier that way. That way she didn't have to admit the truth. The truth was that John beat her and she was pregnant with his child. They didn't want to know the truth. She knew the truth. She always knew the truth, because when you cut yourself or someone else with the truth, it bled.
As she was drifting into sleep Monica heard a familiar holler,
"Where the fuck is she!"
It was John. Normally he appeared in her nightmares but this time he had come back for real. Monica curled up in a small ball trying to block out Chloe's crying in Chandlers living room.
TBC
HAHAHAHA ! (evil cackle) Don't you love cliffhangers? No? Then review and tell me so!
