Chapter Nine

Chandler heard the faint sound of an ambulance siren.

That's funny… I don't remember calling 911…

When Chandler's eyes were fully open, he noticed he was on the couch, and Joey, Ross, and Phoebe were huddled by the kitchen. No memories came back to him and his head swayed back and forth.

"Mon, wake up," he heard Phoebe whisper.

Monica? What happened…

Suddenly, the events from the past few months rushed back to him. Chandler jumped up from the couch and ran over to his friends, ignoring the pounding pain in his head. Chandler pushed passed Joey and looked at Monica. More tears sprang to his eyes and his hand instantly reached out for hers. Despite the fact that it was cold and bloody, Chandler felt the warmth that her touch always gave him.

"She's still alive," Chandler whispered. "She has to be."

Phoebe and Joey looked at each other, their eyes saddened. Chandler squeezed Monica's hands reassuringly, and Phoebe could have sworn she'd heard her whimper. Chandler took out his other hand and stroked her hair, not caring it was crusted with blood, too.

"You'll be okay, Mon," Chandler whispered to her. "Everything's going to be okay, and soon you'll wake up, safe and healthy. And I promise this time I'll stay. I'll never be so stupid again." Chandler lowered his head as if covering his face so that his friends couldn't see his tears.

They did.

"Life's hell without you, and I was only without you for a few months. I can't bare the thought of losing you forever. But it's okay, I won't have to. In no time at all, you'll be the happy, warm Monica we all love."

Before Chandler could say another word, the doors burst open and four paramedics came rushing in. Joey, Ross, and Phoebe cleared the way for them, but Chandler stayed to his one spot. The paramedics picked Monica up and put her on the stretcher, and Chandler heard one whisper, "This can't be good." They lead the way to the ambulance, and one of the paramedics noticed Chandler.

"You can't come in here, follow in your car."

Chandler shook his head stubbornly. "No, I'm coming in the ambulance with her. I'm not leaving her." The paramedic shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

Chandler almost laughed out loud. How could they be so inconsiderate? Did they even care that someone was dying, or was this just another paying job for them to do? Chandler climbed in the ambulance as it sped off toward the hospital. Through all of the noise, through the doctors screaming out her temperature, blood pressure, and condition, Chandler whispered comfortingly.

"You'll be okay. Everything's going to be okay. This is all just some stupid mistake, and it'll be solved soon. You're not going to die." Tears fell from his face harshly, falling to the ground. "You'll be okay, you can get through this."

He never let go of her hand.

* * *

The paramedics rushed through the ER's glass doors, holding the gurney that held Monica. Chandler ran along with them, staying by Monica's side. It wasn't until the paramedics told him to that he let go of her hand. They ushered Chandler outside the room and went back in. Chandler sighed and fell onto a chair. Phoebe, Joey, and Ross came rushing in, looking for where Monica went.

Chandler did nothing to show them where he was.

Chandler put his head to his hands and tightly shut his eyes.

She's not going to die. She's okay. Nothing's going to happen to her. I won't have to live without her. Never. I'm going to die before she does. She deserves a long, full life. She doesn't deserve to die so young.

She did this to herself because of him; he knew it. He didn't know how he knew it, he just did. Why didn't he come home sooner? It was all his fault. If he left Rachel even a day earlier, things would be so much more different.

He was supposed to be laughing along with Monica now. He was supposed to be holding her for the first time in months. He was supposed to tell her how much she meant to him.

He was never able to.

* * *

When a doctor came out of her room, Chandler sprang up to his feet.

"What is it? Is she okay?" Chandler asked, practically screaming. The doctor shook his head.

"She – well, we don't know how she'll be yet. All I can tell you is she's not dead… yet. But… we found this in her pocket. We thought you'd like to see it." The doctor handed him a small piece of paper.

"You mean to tell me that while this woman is dying, you're searching her clothes?" Chandler asked, angry. The doctor shook his head.

"In order to save her, we needed to know how she got wounded so we'll know how serious it is." The doctor went to the door.

"She tried to kill herself," Chandler whispered, his voice solid and hard. The doctor stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around.

"Why?" The doctor stood still in his spot.

"Does it matter?" Chandler asked. "You said you needed to know what happened, I'm telling you. There was a knife beside her. My best friend tried to kill herself. She's in there, dying… and none of you seem to care. Instead, you give me this bullshit about needing to know why she's in this condition." Chandler ran his fingers through his hair and slowly sat down.

"Look, we're all trying the best we can…"

"Then go in there and don't come out until she's safe," Chandler said, looking up. His eyes were on fire and his face was firm. Without saying another word, the doctor shook his head and walked back into the room. Chandler gripped the paper tightly, afraid. His knuckles turned white and his face red. Chandler gradually opened up the folded paper and read what it said. It was dated from yesterday's date… when Monica was still healthy.

You're the reason I live and the reason I die

You're the reason I smile yet break down and cry

You're the reason I keep going and the reason I fall

But without you, my life is nothing at all

Chandler let out a quivery sigh and folded the paper back up. It was Monica's note to him. Chandler wiped a salty tear from his eye and put the paper down. Now he was sure that he was the reason she did this to herself. Chandler threw his head back and looked up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, but it wouldn't happen. Monica kept appearing when he closed his eyes, and when he opened them reality rushed back. Chandler just stared at the small dots that made up the ceiling, trying not to think of anything.

Death.

Such a cruel word, such an inane thought. Why was it that the worst people – robbers, killers, cheaters – seemed to live the longest, but the best people died so soon? Chandler looked around the room, watching others sitting in other chairs. There was a woman weeping, being comforted by a broad man. There was another child that looked up at a man.

"Why was Mommy brought here, Daddy? We did she fall down?" Chandler heard the child ask. Chandler shuddered. There were other people, other lives that were on the line. Other people's lives were collapsing because a loved one was dying.

But not one person felt like him.

He knew it was selfish to think about just himself, but at least their loved ones knew they were loved. Monica didn't know that she was loved. Why else would she have tried to kill herself? Monica didn't know that Chandler couldn't live without her. Chandler looked at the little boy again.

"Daddy… if something's wrong with her… she'll know we'll always love her, right?" The boy's eyes were teary and he couldn't have been more than 6 years old.

"I hope so," Chandler whispered. He tore his eyes away from the wistful boy and looked at the door in front of him.

Monica's life was in the hands of a doctor. Someone who graduated medical school. But not someone that could come close to understanding her or Chandler. Chandler still held the note and stared at it.

He shred it apart and threw it into the air. He watched the small pieces of paper rise and fall.

Chandler couldn't help but think of the papers as himself.

A few months ago, life couldn't have been better. He had Monica and they were closer than ever. He didn't have any worries, and Monica was with him. He was at the top.

Now all of a sudden he was at the bottom, with no way out. He was stuck. His best friend was dying, and he couldn't even help her.

Chandler heard his name being called so he looked up, seeing Phoebe running over to him. He sighed and put his face back into his hands. Phoebe stood in front of him and frowned.

"Didn't you hear us calling you?" Phoebe asked. Chandler shifted his weight and shook his head.

"I don't listen when my best friend is dying." Chandler kicked his foot into the ground and looked up at Phoebe. "Is she going to be ok?" he asked her as if she'd have an answer. He knew she didn't.

"I wish I knew," Phoebe whispered, sitting down next to Chandler. Chandler looked into space for a few minutes, then a sad smile crossed his face.

"You know… ever since I met Monica, my fears changed. She taught me to never be afraid, to live up to life. Before her, I was always afraid of dying. She taught me that either way, I'm going to die, so I should just live life to the fullest." Chandler glanced at Phoebe and continued, "Ever since then, I had no fears. Well, all except one. I was always afraid of Monica dying."

Phoebe shifted her eyes from left to right, not knowing what to say. Chandler looked at Phoebe with tears in his eyes. Then he looked ahead, towards Monica's door.

"I guess my biggest fear is coming true." Chandler stood up and walked over to the door, leaning his side against it. He titled his head up to prevent a rush of tears. "I never thought I'd be standing here, waiting here. I never thought that Monica would be hurt so much so young." Instead of looking at Phoebe, he looked straight in front of him. "I didn't mind not knowing where I was headed… because Monica was always there. And I thought… that as long as she was where I was headed, I'd be okay." Chandler slid to the floor and finally looked up at Phoebe. He hesitated.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not a fighter. I've never been, and I never will be. All I ever wanted in life was someone who could understand me. I had that with Monica, and now all of a sudden it's all being taken away from me. I can't stand Monica being hurt like this. It's tearing me apart, piece by piece."

Phoebe looked at him and shook her head. "You'll get through this," she tried to console.

"How could I… when Monica was the one that made me get through everything?"

* * *

For the first time since he entered the ER, the room was quiet. No one was shouting, no one was crying. He was the only one in the room. Chandler stared sleepily at the door to Monica's room, wanting to sleep, but not daring to do so. He couldn't sleep while Monica was in so much pain. Chandler stood up and opened his eyes a little bit more. Chandler could hear Monica's voice ringing in his head, and he felt tears well up into his eyes yet again. Already, his eyes were bloodshot from the tears he shed for Monica, and his cheeks were stained with drips of brackish tears. And there was no stopping the pain that lingered in his heart with no way out. Chandler walked over to a doctor of Monica's that was passing by in the hallway.

"I need to see Monica, now." His voice was firm, yet fragile. The doctor shook his head.

"No, you don't want to see her. It'll make this all worse for you. She's not in a condition that's pleasant to the eye. It'll hurt seeing her."

Chandler shook his head. "I don't care. I need to see her. Let me in."

The doctor sighed. "There's just no getting past you, is there?"

Chandler shook his head.

"Fine, then. But only for a little while." The doctor went over to the door and opened it for him. Chandler nodded his head towards the doctor and went inside, shutting the door behind him. He slowly walked over to Monica.

When he was close enough to Monica to see her condition, Chandler's blood ran cold.

Attached to her nose and mouth was an air mask. Tubes ran from her neck to her arms and legs, and her hair was still crusted with blood. An unfamiliar machine to Chandler was attached to her, keeping more blood from pouring out. There was a monitor at her head that showed a zigzagging line that told Chandler that she was still breathing, even if not on her own. Cuts were apparent all over her face, and her arms were covered in blood. There was also a cut in her shirt that the doctors ripped open, revealing a covered cut. The cut was very deep, and very bloody. It was right near her heart, but not quite through her heart. Then he noticed deep cuts by her wrists, revealing her muscle and some bone.

Chandler shuddered.

This wasn't the same Monica that Chandler knew. Chandler shook his head. He slowly walked closer to her and sat in a chair next to her bed. Chandler wiped the tears already forming in his eyes and slowly reached out for Monica's hand. Careful not to touch any cut to hurt her, Chandler secured his hand over hers. She looked so different, but she was still the Monica he'd known for ten years. All he wanted to do was make the pain get away from her, even if the pain went to him instead. He couldn't stand the sight of Monica being hurt.

"You'll be okay, Mon. You're not going to leave me, not again. You promised best friends forever, and there's no forever without you. And Monica Gellar never breaks her promises," Chandler whispered. He sat in the seat, still holding her hand.

"Don't you dare break your promise. Don't you dare die on me. Not now, not ever. You were always the tough one, the one that could do anything. I was the weak one. I was the one that was supposed to make mistakes, remember? Not you, not Monica. You're perfect, you're flawless. You weren't supposed to get hurt like this."

Chandler tightened his grip around Monica's hand and lowered his head.

Then, beside Monica, he fell asleep with her hand in his.

To be continued…

Do you want me to continue? Did you think it was great, or did you think it was the worst thing you ever read? Let me know; review! I hope this chapter came up a little bit faster than last time… my computer was working, but I was still busy. Anyway, let me know if I should continue this story or not.