Kissing a Fool
Five: Coulda Been Your Star1988
Kathy walked briskly down the stark white hallway, her heels echoing through the corridor hauntingly. She kept her eyes to the floor, refusing to make eye contact with curious onlookers for fear that they could read her thoughts—and see her devastation.
She peered up at the assigned room number, and stole a short glance over her shoulder, before turning the handle, and pushing the heavy metal door open.
Relative to the rest of the building, the room was dark; the off white vertical blinds were closed tightly, letting in only thin slivers of outside light. Above the bed, a small light illuminated the surrounding area, and cast a pallid glow upon the bed's current resident.
Had it really only been a year?
Chandler looked terribly small, and fragile; nothing like the booming, obnoxious person he had been right up until the show's cancellation last spring. Heavy, charcoal bags lined his closed eyes, and his pale, dry lips were trembling. A blood-soiled patch of gauze covered his right eyebrow, and another covered his bony right arm. He looked…horrible.
Kathy stifled a sob, and approached the bed slowly, her heart racing. She sat down, and gingerly picked up Chandler's hand, careful not to disturb the IV that had been taped to it. She sighed, and ran another hand through his hair, unintentionally rousing him.
He opened his sleep-crusted eyes slowly, and blinked several times, as he tried to focus on the figure that sat in front of him.
"K-Kathy?" he rasped slowly.
"Hi, Chandler," she whispered reverently, and gave his hand a light squeeze.
"Wh-what are you doing here," he whispered, tears lining his heavily lidded eyes.
"I heard…on TV…are you okay? What happened?"
"Kath…I'm so sorry…I've been…I'm so sorry for not—" Chandler's lips began trembling with intensity, and he stopped to swallow hard.
"Chandler, it's okay…just tell me what happened."
"I…I can't," Chandler closed his eyes, and the tears that had pooled in them escaped and slid down his newly flushed cheeks.
"It's okay, I'm here," Kathy whispered softly, "I'm here to help."
"No," Chandler whispered, "I don't deserve your help…please…just…I just want to die…alone."
1996
He wandered the streets for hours, unsure what to do next. A bitter wind whipped through the streets, and he shivered, his dry, red eyes barely focusing on the scene surrounding him.
In his heart, he knew that Kathy was right: they'd never work together, as a real, legitimate couple—they'd been through too much together. And she was a link to a past that he was fighting so desperately to forget.
And Monica. God, he did love her, no matter how hard he tried to tell himself otherwise.
In reality, he was not really angry with her anymore. He was, at first, but then he fell off the wagon, and buried himself in the sanctuary of Kathy's embrace, and he numbed himself from a truth that he was not prepared to face:
She was too good for him.
In spite of his past behaviors, Chandler had always carried insecurities about himself. The years of rejection following the cancellation of Family Style, coupled with the drug abuse and the horrible incident with Sean—all of it only served to reinforce those feelings, and as the years progressed, Chandler found himself digging a deeper hole to hide into, closing himself off from everyone he once knew.
Then he met Monica, and he felt everything change. She was a constant light in his life—and he felt himself trusting someone completely for the first time in years.
The lies she'd told had hurt—and they had made him angry—but when he started to unravel again, he began wondering whether she'd really want someone with his past—someone so inherently flawed—someone who would end up hurting her, as he had so many others.
With Kathy, he could pretend that he was someone that he no longer was—he didn't have to live up to expectations—because Kathy had seen him at his very worst. But Monica was…she was something extraordinary, and seemed out of reach, and Chandler would have to work to keep her love.
And that scared him to death.
He walked up toward his apartment, and was only mildly surprised to see Monica sitting on the floor in front of his door, her back against the wall, and her arms hugging her knees. He was hit with the overwhelming notion that she looked like a lost child, and the preciousness of the moment nearly brought him to tears. Instead, he swallowed down the thick lump that had formed in his throat, and straightened his shoulders, before walking down the corridor, a neutral expression lining his face.
She looked up at him pleadingly, and as he drew nearer, she slowly stood, never taking her eyes off of him.
"Chandler—I'm…so sorry…I just—"
"Let's go inside," Chandler said flatly, surprising himself with his ability to keep his emotions in check.
Monica nodded, and Chandler keyed into the apartment, his hands shaking slightly as he turned the key. He opened the door, and the duo stepped inside the apartment, both stiff with nerves, and neither able to read the other's thoughts.
"I should have told you," Monica whispered, "But I didn't want to scare you away…I—I guess I have no good excuse—"
"I'm not…Monica, I—I…" Chandler stuttered, then turned away from her, realizing that what he had to tell her would be much easier if he was looking away, "I'm not mad at you…anymore. I just…I don't know if this is a good idea," he stared foreword blankly, and ignored the slow burning pain in his heart.
"Wh-why? I mean, I love you—" Monica cried, her voice shaky, but determined.
Chandler dropped his head, and let out a deep sigh. "Why?" he asked quietly.
"Why…wh-what?" Monica asked, then sniffled loudly.
"Why do you love me?" Chandler turned, and looked at Monica with an intensity that scorched a hole in her soul, "Why?"
"I—" Monica opened her mouth, and wondered what she should say. Was he still bitter over all of this? Did he think she loved him for his past successes? She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, then looked up into his eyes.
"Because you make me happier than I've ever been. Because you give me more than I ever thought I deserved. Because just the thought of you makes me smile. Because you are on mind all day and all night, and when I'm not with you, I feel incomplete. Because I just…can't help myself," Monica smiled shyly, and looked up at Chandler hopefully.
To her utter surprise, Chandler smiled widely, and took a long step toward her. He grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her toward him, before kissing her with so much passion, so much love, that she felt her knees buckle. He pulled away, and held onto her tightly, tears staining his relieved face.
"The thing is," he whispered, "I love you too. I love you so much it hurts."
"Is this a dream? I want you…so much…and this…it doesn't seem real," Monica sighed.
"I love you, more than anything in the world," Chandler smiled.
"I love you too," she cried, and he kissed her again.
"Monica?"
Monica opened her eyes, and looked up slowly, to find Chandler standing over her in the hallway of his apartment building.
"How long have you been here?" Chandler queried, as he helped her to her feet.
"I—I don't know," Monica whispered, still disoriented. Had it really all been a dream?
"Come on inside, we—we need to talk," Chandler smiled stiffly, and led Monica into the apartment.
She stepped inside, had shivered, a sense of déjà vu flashing by her. She felt him behind her, and she turned, and forced herself to look up into his eyes.
"Chandler, I—"
"I know," he whispered huskily, "I…I love you Monica. But I think…there are some things you need to know about me before you say anything else."
"Okay," Monica replied warily, and blindly let Chandler lead her to his sofa. They sat down, and Chandler took her hands in his gingerly, then lifted one to his lips and caressed it tenderly. He looked up at her, and she was startled by the darkness and sadness that loomed there.
"I…I told you some things about me…but not everything. I…I'm an alcoholic, Mon, and after you told me…what you told me, I fell off the wagon—I-I'm not blaming you, I just…you need to know these things. I…I have…issues…I'm damaged, and I…I am not the shining star you once saw on TV. I thought it would easier to stay away from you, than to let you love me…for me. Because I haven't liked myself for a very long time, and I thought that once you got to know the real me, you wouldn't like me either."
"So, I…I've been staying with a friend of mine, trying to avoid all of this," Chandler laughed sadly, and looked away, "Trying to avoid telling you who I really am."
"You were staying Kathy?" Monica asked, and Chandler looked at her, shock in his eyes.
"How—I mean, what—"
"She came to see me. She told me that…she loves you, and wants you to be happy."
A wistful smile brushed Chandler's lips, and tears formed in his cerulean eyes.
"Yeah…she…she's a wonderful person. She…loved me when no one else would," he whispered.
"Do you love her?" Monica asked with more desperation than she had intended.
Chandler looked at Monica for a long moment, before tenderly cupping her face in his hands.
"Yes…but not the way I love you. I…don't expect you to like me, after I—"
Monica smiled, and pulled Chandler toward her for a long, passionate kiss, ecstatic that he still loved her, and was willing to give her another chance.
Chills ran through her again, as images from her strangely realistic dream flashed through her mind.
"Mon," Chandler pulled away, "I think you should…look, I…I slept with her," he rasped.
Monica's smile faded, and she swallowed hard.
"W-with Kathy?"
"Yes. I…I suppose it's habit…she's always there when I…when I fall."
"You used her, to make yourself feel better?" Monica furrowed her brow.
"I…I suppose," Chandler suddenly felt the flush of shame course through him.
"You said you loved her…is that how you show your love?"
"No! I…I don't know," Chandler sighed and shook his head. Why did he have to open his mouth?
"What happens when we fight again? Are you going to go running back to Kathy?"
"No! Look, even if I did, I doubt she'd—"
"She loves you, Chandler, and love makes people do foolish things."
"I suppose it does," he replied distantly.
"I—I think I need some air," Monica said softly, and stood to leave. Chandler grabbed her hand, as she turned toward the door.
"Monica, I'm sorry…for everything."
"Everything…you mean there's more? Did you sleep with other old costars?"
"No," Chandler's eyes darkened, and he looked to the ground.
"Then what?"
Chandler looked up at her, and the expression he wore at that moment could have broken Monica's heart, had she let it. He dropped her hand, and shook his head.
"I'm sorry I'm not the person you thought I was. The Chandler Bing you wanted me to be."
Monica swallowed hard, and avoided his eyes.
"So am I."
1988
"Hey," Kathy walked into Chandler's room three days later, a large vase of flowers in her hands, "you look much better."
"I feel better," Chandler sighed.
"So, no more talk about how you're gonna 'die alone'?" Kathy smiled.
"No," Chandler flushed slightly, and stared at his blanket.
"Are you ready to tell me what happened?" Kathy asked softly, as she sat down on the bed next to Chandler. He laid his head in her lap, and closed his eyes, as she began running her fingers through his hair.
"I…I don't remember most of it…I was so high," he sighed slowly.
"What do you remember?"
"I remember the coke…and some girls…one of them had a rock of something, and Sean was shooting up…he started freaking out, and…we fought. But I don't remember what the police told me…I don't remember pushing him off the terrace, or cutting my own arms with the glass…I just…" Chandler broke down, and Kathy leaned forward, and kissed his temple.
"I know…it's okay. Everything's gonna be okay."
"They're gonna charge me," Chandler whispered almost too softly for Kathy to hear, "they said I killed him."
Kathy felt nausea rise through her, and she swallowed hard.
"I know, sweetie. But it wasn't your fault. You'll be okay…everyone loves you, and they're on your side."
Chandler sniffled, and looked up at Kathy sadly.
"Then why are you the only one here?"
~*~
AN: Crap. I was TRYING to wrap this damn thing up, and now I've just dug myself into a big fat hole. Can all of you review and tell me that this is no good so I can just stop writing (and then cry myself to sleep)? Thanks!