See previous chapter for Story Summary.

AN: This chapter focuses pretty much on Chandler and Monica (shocking, I know!) but I am gonna try this new thing where I focus a bit more on one or two character stories at a time, instead of three or four.  So this'll be C/M, then I may move on to Ross next chapter.  Make sense?  Great.  Okay, so if I proceed this way, this damn fic is gonna be like 30 chapters, lol.  Sorry bout that.

The Age of Aquarius

Chapter Thirteen: I Still Miss Someone

At my door the leaves are falling

A cold wild wind has come

Sweethearts walk by together

And I still miss someone

San Francisco

"Okay, sweetie, breathe, c'mon, just breathe—"

"Rachel, shut up!" Monica growled, as another contraction peaked.

"Sorry, sorry," Rachel smiled patiently, as Monica released her death-grip on her hand.

"Ooh, I can't do this, Rach," Monica's demeanor changed suddenly and dramatically, just as it had every few moments for the past couple of hours.

"Oh, Mon yes you can!  You can do this!"

"Where's Chandler?" Monica moaned.

"Um, well, he—I don't know hon, but I'm sure we'll be able to find him…ow!"

"I don't want him!  I hate him for doing this to me!  I hope he rots in hell!"

"Okay, well, that's not-not Chandler's hand, Mon, that's mine," Rachel grimaced.

"Monica, how are we feeling?" a masked doctor came floating into the hospital room moments later.

"Ahhh!" Monica screamed and twisted Rachel's hand, causing her to scream with Monica.

"Wow, okay," the doctor laughed, as she sat down to check on Monica.

"Get it out!" Monica screamed.

"Okay, you're doing fine, Monica.  And it looks like you're fully dilated, so I want you to try and relax."

"Is that supposed to be funny?" Monica asked incredulously.

"Not at all, sweetie.  Okay, are you ready?  On your next contraction, I want you to push, okay?"

Monica nodded silently, and her face scrunched up, as a contraction hit her.

"Push, Monica!"

*

Two hours later, Monica's pain-filled cries were replaced by the shaky cries of a newborn.

"You did it, Monica, and you have a beautiful baby boy!"

"Oh Mon!  Look it's a boy!  Oh look he has a little tiny pee pee and everything!" Rachel gushed.

"Oh, let me see," Monica sobbed, as a nurse brought the swathed baby toward her.

"He's so perfect," Monica smiled.

"Do we have a name yet?" the doctor asked quietly.

"Not yet," Monica whispered.

"We'll call him Baby Geller then," the doctor smiled.

"Okay," Monica said, then stopped for a moment.  "No, Baby Bing," she smiled.

"Mon, are you sure?" Rachel asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Monica looked down at the newborn, "he looks so much like Chandler…and what if Chandler doesn't…I mean, I just want his name carried on," Monica finished somberly.

"Baby Bing it is," the doctor smiled.

*

She was exhausted, but she couldn't stop staring at the baby that she held in her arms.  She was amazed that she had been able to do something so incredible, and stunned at how much the little boy looked exactly like his father.

The tiny baby's eyes fluttered open, and looked up at his mother brightly.

"Hi there little one," Monica whispered, smiling, "I'm your mommy, and I love you more than anything in the world."

The baby yawned, and closed his big blue eyes again.  Monica kissed his forehead tenderly, and placed him in the small bassinet that had been rolled next to her hospital bed.

"What would your daddy think of all this?" Monica wondered to herself.  She sighed, and sat back on her bed slightly.  Reality was beginning to set in for her.  How was she going to do this alone?  What if she told Chandler, and he wanted nothing to do with them?  Or worse, what if he never came back from Vietnam?  Closing her eyes, she swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat.

She could do this; she could raise her son by herself.

Couldn't she?

North Vietnam

The wind whipped through the trees ferociously, propelling sheets of rain in every direction.  Chandler pushed his way through the thick foliage, refusing to believe that he had completely lost his sense of direction, as he moved deeper into the jungles.

He'd been heading south, hoping to run across any Friendly's before night fell.  But the storm had brought with it an ominous darkness and Chandler was struggling to see what was ahead of him.  His body was screaming, and his head was throbbing, but his primal instinct to simply survive kept him moving through the sharp downpour.  

For hours, he fought against the storm, against his own body's protests, against the risk that Charlie's could be anywhere.

Eventually, his body refused to comply further.  He collapsed against a tree, and sunk to the muddy floor below.

His vision blurred, and he felt the cool arms of darkness overwhelm him.

San Francisco

"Hey," Rachel knocked softly on the door, as she slipped into Monica's room, "how are you?"

Monica looked up at Rachel, a pained expression lining her tired face.  Baby Bing was firmly attached to his mother's breast.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked, concerned.  She rushed toward Monica, and sat down on a plastic chair next to the bed.

"Oh, n-nothing, really," Monica smiled slightly, "It just…hurts, you know?"

"What?  What hurts?"

Monica motioned down toward her chest, and Rachel's eyes lit up in comprehension.

"Oooh.  It really hurts?"

"Yeah it—Ow!" Monica winced and pulled the baby away from her slightly.  The baby squirmed and whined in protest, until Monica reluctantly pulled him back toward her.

"So," Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and tore her eyes away from the nursing baby, "have you thought of a name yet?"

"No…I was thinking of naming him after Chandler, but I don't think Chandler likes his name much," Monica giggled.

"What's his middle name?"

"I...I don't know," Monica shrugged.

"Hmm.  How about Richard?  You could call him Ritchie?"

Monica scrunched up her nose, and shook her head.

"Holden?  Bradley?  Lawrence?" Rachel rattled off more names, and Monica cringed at each more and more.

"What about Jack?" Rachel smiled.

Monica shrugged, and ignored the pain in her heart that accompanied the mention of her father's name.

"Joshua? Jake? Jakob?"

"I like Jakob," Monica grinned, and looked down at her son, "Jakob," she whispered softly.

North Vietnam

He saw her, smiling at him, caressing his cheek lovingly with her soft hand.  He sighed, and looked up at her affectionately.

"Mom," he whispered, and smiled softly.

His mother said nothing; she simply smiled at him, and held her to him.

He felt warm, and safe, and content.  He looked up at his mother again, and saw that she was frowning slightly, and looking past him.  He followed her gaze, turning his head to look behind him.

He saw himself, curled against a large tree in a Vietnamese jungle.  He was soaked to the bone, bruised, battered and bleeding.  The rain had stopped, and the morning sun was peeking through the greenery.  His lips were tinted blue, and his breathing was shallow.

He turned away from the terrifying scene, and grasped his mother's arm.  He wanted nothing more at that moment, than to stay where he was, in his mother's arms, warm and safe.

San Francisco

Monica opened her eyes slowly, and smiled when she saw Phoebe sitting in a chair next to her bed, staring down at the baby.

"Phoebe!  Are you okay?  Where's Chris?"

"He went home to change," Phoebe sighed, "I'm sorry we missed everything, but we had to stay behind and talk to the police…"

"Pheebs, it's okay," Monica smiled, and noted that Phoebe looked utterly exhausted.  Dark circles lined her eyes, and her hair was matted and dirty.  She looked much older than her 19 years.

"Enough about that," Phoebe shook her head rapidly, "You have to introduce me to this handsome fellow here," Phoebe looked back down at the sleeping baby.

"Oh, this is Jakob Michael Bing," Monica smiled proudly.

Phoebe's smile faltered slightly, but she recovered before Monica noticed. 

"Monica, that's a beautiful name," Phoebe gushed, and hugged her friend tightly, "I, uh, I think Carol and Susan wanted to come in and say hi, so, uh, now that you're awake, I'll get her, okay?" Phoebe smiled and rushed out of the room before Monica could reply.

Phoebe rushed down the hallway, and into the waiting room.

"Hey, Carol, Susan, Monica is awake," she smiled politely, and sat down next to Rachel.

"Pheebs, what's wrong, you look like you've seen a ghost," Rachel laughed.

"Monica named her son Jakob," Phoebe said flatly.

"Yeah, I know, I helped her pick it out," Rachel shrugged, "Why?"

Phoebe looked over at Rachel, tears lining her eyes. 

"I've been having a weird feeling all day, and at first I thought it was because of the firebomb, but I don't think that's it," Phoebe rattled nervously.

"Phoebe, what is going on?"

"You know, it's probably nothing," Phoebe smiled, "it's just that Jakob was my great-grandfather's name, and I know that it-it means supplanter."

Rachel shrugged, "Supplanter…so what?"

"You don't see it?  It's a sign!" Phoebe said, panic and frustration lined her voice, "Supplanter: one who takes the place of another."

Rachel looked at Phoebe blankly.  "I'm not following, Phoebe."

"One who takes the place of another," Phoebe repeated gravely, "I just…have a feeling Chandler is not coming back, and that Jakob is meant to take his place in Monica's heart." 

At my door the leaves are falling

A cold wild wind has come

Sweethearts walk by together

And I still miss someone

I go out on a party

And look for a little fun

But I find a darkened corner

Because I still miss someone

Oh, no I never got over those blue eyes

I see them every where

I miss those arms that held me

When all the love was there

I wonder if she's sorry

For leavin' what we'd begun

There's someone for me somewhere

And I still miss someone

("I Still Miss Someone", by J. Cash & R. Cash, Jr. ©1958)