The Setup: 1966. The US has sent over 300,000 troops to the war in Vietnam. On the home front, tensions are mounting, as support for the War continues to diminish. President Johnson makes his first trip to South Vietnam, and the Soviet Union announces its intentions to support North Vietnam, arousing anger among war supporters and moderates.
As for our favorite sextet, Monica, Rachel and Phoebe are seniors in high school. Ross, Chandler and Joey have just graduated high school (Joey and Chandler went to a different school, though). Rachel and Ross are dating.
AN: This Chapter contains some sexual content. You have been warned.
~The Age of Aquarius~
Chapter Three: For What It's Worth
She was running. From what, she couldn't be sure. Darkness had fallen all around her, enveloping her like a thick, stifling blanket. Behind her, she could hear the heavy, ominous footsteps closing in. She struggled to run faster, but her legs refused to cooperate. The darkness closed in. She cried out, but no one was there. She felt the ground collapse beneath her, and she shrieked when she felt herself falling into the darkness…
"Monica? Monica, wake up."
Monica cried out once more, then felt herself being pulled back into consciousness. She reluctantly opened her eyes, and found herself face-to-face with a very concerned-looking Chandler.
"Monica, it's okay. You were dreaming."
Monica blinked a few times, allowing her eyes to focus. She sat up slowly, and saw that she was at the beach, and it was still dark out.
"What time is it?" she whispered, as her eyes scanned the sea of slumbering bodies around her.
"Uh, about 2 or 3, I think," Chandler smiled.
"I should get home," Monica looked at Chandler awkwardly.
"Yeah, uh, okay. Lemme get Phoebe's keys," Chandler whispered, and crawled over toward his sleeping friends.
Monica looked out into the darkness, listening as the waves softly caressed the sandy shoreline. Flashes from her nightmare haunted her for a short moment, but she quickly shook them off.
It was just a dream.
"Ready?" Chandler whispered into her ear, and Monica jumped, startled. She smiled, and nodded silently.
They were silent as they walked toward the van. The sounds of the ocean and the crackling embers of the fire were fading in the background, and were slowly replaced by a thick, awkward stillness. It wasn't until they reached the van, that Chandler finally said something.
"Monica, I'm—uh, sorry if we get you in trouble again. I know that you are, you know—"
"A goody-two-shoes?" Monica smiled.
"No! Well, I—" Chandler ran his hands through his messy hair, then blew a puff of air upward, when his shaggy hair landed in his face.
Monica giggled, and closed the gap between herself and Chandler.
"It's okay," she laughed, "I am a good girl. But," she continued, her voice taking a decisively sultry turn, "I really wanna be bad."
Chandler chuckled, and arched an eyebrow. "Do you know how much trouble you could get into with me?"
Monica nodded, and grinned slyly. Chandler shook his head, and slid open the side door of the van. Monica smiled, and climbed into the van. Chandler followed her, then slid the door shut. He turned, and looked at Monica, who was sitting on the floor of the van, propped up against the wall. He crawled toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. Still on his hands and knees, he leaned toward her, and kissed her softly. She smiled into the kiss, and placed her hands on either side of his face, as she deepened the kiss. Chandler pulled her toward him with one arm, and used the other to gently balance himself over her. He pulled away, and looked at her for a moment, his eyes searching for reassurance. Monica smiled, and wrapped her arms around Chandler's neck.
"Yes," she whispered, and nodded.
Chandler smiled, and pulled her into another kiss. He kissed his way down her neck, and let his body take control of his mind.
Monica was enjoying the feel of Chandler's hands and lips, but the closer they got to actually "doing it", the more nervous she became. Her stomach was in knots, and her hands began to tremble as she pulled at Chandler's clothes. Minutes earlier, she was sure that she wanted this, but now she was having doubts. She only knew what Rachel had told her, but she had never really told her much, mostly because Monica's first reaction had always been "Ew! That's my brother!" But Rachel had told her that the first time was painful, and Monica was now having doubts. But she was so nervous, that she couldn't say anything.
Her mind returned to the present, and Monica suddenly felt very exposed, and very scared. Her ragged breathing increased as Chandler ran his hands over her, and she bit her lip to try and keep quiet.
Chandler mistook the heavy breathing as a sign of arousal, and it only encouraged him. He swiftly discarded the rest of his and Monica's clothes, and moved his lips back up to hers.
Monica closed her eyes, and told herself that it wouldn't be as bad as Rachel had made it out to be. She struggled to enjoy the moment, knowing that she had wanted this, and had even encouraged Chandler into it. She wasn't sure why she was suddenly so hesitant, but she liked Chandler, and didn't want to disappoint him. She smiled when he looked at her, and then closed her eyes as tightly as she could.
But it hurt. It hurt much more than she expected, and she could not stop herself from crying out in pain. She only vaguely heard Chandler whispering in her ear, and did not feel her tears rolling down her cheeks.
Chandler tried to get Monica to relax, but he could not stand the sound of her cries. He whispered a quick apology into her ear, but was sure she couldn't hear him. He pulled out of her, and clambered for the blanket he'd brought back with them from the bonfire. He pulled it over her, and wrapped his arms around her, in an attempt to soothe her pain.
Monica cried into Chandler's chest for several minutes. Once she realized what she had done, her anguish was replaced with humiliation, and she buried her face deeper into Chandler's chest.
"Monica, I'm so, so sorry," Chandler whispered soothingly.
"What?" Monica pulled away, and looked up at Chandler, confused.
"I'm sorry I hurt you," Chandler frowned.
"Oh. I—I don't think it's your fault. I guess…I wasn't ready," Monica said softly.
"Then it is my fault," Chandler whispered hoarsely, and pulled Monica closer.
Monica giggled, and looked up at Chandler.
"What's so funny?" Chandler asked, puzzled.
"I…don't know," Monica finally said, "I just needed to laugh."
"Oh really?" Chandler said incredulously. He pulled himself on top of Monica, and began to tickle her. "I'll give you something to giggle at," he laughed.
Monica laughed and squirmed beneath him, but was no match for his heavy body and large hands. When Chandler finally relented, he planted a small kiss on her nose, and smiled. His smile faded suddenly, as he ran his hand down her cheek.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly.
"I'm sure," Monica smiled, and pulled Chandler on top of her for a kiss.
Monica had apparently made it back into the house without being noticed, because her parents all but ignored her later that morning at the breakfast table. Chandler had finally dropped Monica off at around 4, but Judy woke Monica up for breakfast at 7:30. Monica struggled to keep her eyes open throughout breakfast, and was relieved when her parents announced that they would be out most of the day, and would then be meeting with Rachel's parents for dinner. After mechanically cleaning the dishes, Monica lumbered back up into her room, and crashed onto her bed. She was asleep within minutes, dreaming of her early morning tryst with Chandler.
~***~
Ross sighed heavily, and crumpled up the paper he had been writing on. He tossed the paper toward the wastebasket that sat in the corner of the room, but once again, he missed the basket completely. He shook his head, as he counted the balls of paper that now littered the ground around the basket.
"Well, Geller, it's a good thing you never tried out for basketball," he mumbled to himself. Shaking his head once more, he pulled out another sheet of paper, and picked up his pen. He bit his lower lip, and began writing.
Dearest Rachel,
And that was as far as he got. Why was he suddenly having so much trouble expressing himself? He knew what he wanted to tell Rachel, but he was having trouble picturing his own death. The letter, he reassured himself, was meant to bring comfort to Rachel, in the event of his untimely death in Vietnam. Sighing in frustration, Ross looked across his desk at a framed photo of Rachel. He picked up the frame, and ran his finger over the glass lovingly. He turned the frame over, and pulled the cardboard backing from it. He then freed the photo from the frame, and turned it over once more. Smiling, he stood and added the photo to the growing pile of things he planned to pack. Sitting back down, he picked up the pen, and began to write, pouring out his heart into a letter he hoped Rachel would never have to read.
~***~
"Chandler," Charles' voice boomed as Chandler stumbled down the stairs, and into the kitchen.
"What?" Chandler said irritably, his head throbbing from lack of sleep and a bit too much alcohol the night before.
"I'm expecting you home for dinner tonight at 7:30. I've called in a recruiter, and he is going to help us discuss your options."
"A recruiter? An Army recruiter? I'm not doing this," Chandler said coldly.
"At least listen to your options, Chandler. I will not have you wasting your life away—"
"Like you care about my life," Chandler laughed bitterly, and began walking out of the kitchen.
"What is your problem? What did I do to you that was so bad, Chandler? I gave you a home, I fed you, and I've provided you with the best education money can buy—what more do you need?"
Chandler turned to look at his father, a small smirk playing on his lips. His eyes were filled with rage, but when he finally spoke, his voice was controlled, and flat.
"I needed a father. I needed someone there to tell me that I mattered. To you I was always a liability, or an extra expense to be 'dealt with'. You care more about what strangers think, than what your family feels. You've driven Mom to drink, and you've driven me away. So don't expect me to drop my ideals and pick up arms just because that's what you want. It's too late. You haven't earned the respect you think you deserve." Chandler turned to leave, then looked over his shoulder, at his shocked father.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have an anti-war rally to go to."
~***~
The steps of City Hall were already filled with protesters by the time Chandler and Joey arrived. All around them were chants to end the war, and peace-themed songs. Joey spotted Phoebe and Monica immediately, and headed their way.
"Sorry we're late," Joey smiled, and hugged Phoebe.
"That's okay, the rally is just getting organized," Phoebe smiled, and led the group deeper into the crowd.
"How are you feeling?" Chandler took Monica's hand, as they struggled to keep up with Phoebe and Joey.
"Fine," Monica smiled, "and a little embarrassed," she laughed.
"You have no reason to be," Chandler said seriously.
"Yes, well, I think that I just need…practice," Monica smiled, and squeezed Chandler's hand.
Chandler paused and looked down at Monica, wondering if she was really serious. Monica winked, reassuring Chandler. He turned, and made his way through the crowd.
The rally went on longer than expected, and the crowd had grown considerably. The chants were growing louder, and the rally spilled out onto the streets that ran in front of the building. The raucous crowd, combined with bitter feelings and soaring temperatures were pushing the police over the edge. Once the rally began tying up traffic in the area, the police decided that they had had enough. It was time for crowd control.
The protesters reacted badly to the police intervention. Helmeted officers began yanking people from the crowd, as several paddy wagons pulled up to the scene. The protesters struggled against the police, and the rally quickly turned from a peaceful demonstration, into a mini-street war. It was protesters versus police, and only one side was armed.
Joey grabbed Phoebe by the hand, and frantically searched for Chandler and Monica. He finally spotted them, toward the perimeter of the crowd, and he and Phoebe quickly made their way toward them.
Chandler held onto Monica's hand tightly, as they searched for a way out. Chandler heard his name, and turned to see Joey and Phoebe coming their way. He waved his free arm in the air, then froze when he heard Monica scream. He turned to find a masked policeman pulling at Monica, trying to get her into the paddy wagon. Monica resisted, and the officer wrapped an arm around her waist. Chandler pulled at Monica, while simultaneously shoving the officer away.
Big mistake. The officer released his hold on Monica, and advanced toward Chandler, with his nightstick pulled. Chandler backed up, but tripped on the curb, and fell backwards. The officer sprayed Chandler with some kind of tear gas, then whacked him with the stick. Monica screamed, and tried to intervene, but was stopped by another officer who had come up behind her. Joey shoved the assaulting officer off of Chandler, but he too, was apprehended by frustrated officers. He was shoved into the paddy wagon behind Monica and Phoebe, and turned around in time to catch Chandler, who was also being tossed into the truck.
~***~
Charles smiled apologetically at the recruiting officer, who, after waiting for more than two hours, had decided he'd had enough. He officer was putting on his green jacket and hat when Charles addressed him.
"Once again, I am sorry. He's being rather…stubborn about all of this."
"Not to worry, Charles. I'm certain that we can expedite the draft process for your son."
"I owe you one, Brad. Thank you."
"You can thank me when your son is an officer for the US Army," Brad grinned, and walked out the front door.
There's something happening hereWhat it is ain't exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware
I think it's time we stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
There's battle lines being drawn
Nobody's right if everybody's wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Getting so much resistance from behind
I think it's time we stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
What a field-day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly say, hooray for our side
It's time we stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
You step out of line, the man come and take you away
We better stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, now, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
For What It's Worth(Written by Stephen Stills)
