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Disclaimer: All the characters, barring Audrey Bing, belong to Bright, Kauffman and Crane.
Chapter Eleven
"Shhh," Chandler whispered into Monica's ear. "Shh, baby, it's okay."
Monica buried her face in his chest as she sobbed and he stroked her hair, attempting in vain to comfort her. "I hate this, Chandler, I hate this so much."
He sighed and held her close. "I know," he whispered. "I hate it, too, baby, but you can't let it control you."
Monica nodded. She'd just spent the last hour throwing up, Chandler holding her and pulling back her hair the whole time. It wasn't a rare occurrence; in fact, it was the second time she'd been stuck in the bathroom that day.
Chandler smiled gently and kissed her forehead, carrying her back to her hospital bed. Monica had been in the hospital for three weeks, and the change in her was drastic. Chandler had no trouble carrying her; she'd lost an impossible amount of weight, and the nurses had had to place sheepskin on her bed to keep her bones from bruising her skin. Her hair hadn't yet fallen out, for which both of them were very grateful. The doctor had informed them that a few people kept their hair, and Chandler hoped desperately that Monica was one of them. It wasn't that Chandler was that shallow; rather, he realized that Monica's hair was one of the few dignities she had left.
Chandler laid Monica gently back in bed. "It's gonna be okay," he soothed, brushing back her and kissing her forehead again. "You want to rest awhile?"
Chandler leaned back in his chair as he watched Monica's eyes close and her breathing become soft. He was just about to fall asleep himself when he heard a gentle tap at the door. "Hey," he whispered, opening the door to reveal Ross. He stepped outside with his friend. "She just fell asleep. It's a bad day."
That had become their code-good days and bad days. Good days were the ones where Monica was sitting up, awake, not throwing up, and eating. Good days were the ones when Audrey was allowed to visit and when Chandler went home to spend the night with her and someone else slept at the hospital with Monica.
Bad days were just the opposite. They all loathed bad days, which, unfortunately, were becoming more frequent.
Ross nodded, and they both sat down in the chairs outside Monica's room. "You want me to stay tonight?" Ross asked.
Chandler shook his head vigorously. "She was pretty sick today, Ross. I think I should stay her in case something happens."
"Chandler, I'm not an idiot. She's my sister, and I think I can handle pressing a nurse button if something goes wrong. Besides, you need to go home."
"How do you figure that?" Chandler said defensively. "I saw Audrey this morning, Ross. This is horrible for me, okay, to have to split my time between the two of them. Monica needs me at night, and Audrey doesn't."
"Chandler," Ross said, his voice rising. "This isn't about what Monica needs, or even what Audrey needs. This is about what you need. Look at you!" Chandler glanced down and realized Ross was right. Monica wasn't the only one losing weight; he'd lost five or so pounds right along with her, though his loss stemmed from a steady diet of worrying and little sleep. He hadn't shaved in days; the stubble around his face accented the dark bags under his eyes. "Chandler," Ross repeated. "You need to take care of yourself, too, and not just Audrey and Monica. You can't take care of either of them if you're sick yourself."
Chandler's eyes began to fill with tears; tears of anguish, frustration.....tears that had been building steadily over the past three weeks but that he'd refused to acknowledge. Ross put a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to be so harsh."
Chandler shook his head. "It's not your fault," he whispered. "I just....."
"I know," Ross said softly. "I know."
Chandler let his pent up emotions flow, as his friend hugged him and they cried, together.
"Mon, please," Chandler begged his girlfriend. "You need to eat."
Monica squeezed her eyes shut. "Chandler," she whispered. "Please. I can't eat, okay?"
"I know you don't want to, baby," he said, stroking her cheek softly.
"It's not that I don't want to, Chandler," Monica sighed. "But the more I eat, the more there is to throw up."
Chandler sighed. They'd been through this time and again, and Chandler grew more concerned each time. Monica was growing thinner and thinner by the day. He understood her reluctance to eat; after all, he was the one who had to watch her throw up.
"Chandler," Monica whispered, breaking his thoughts. "I just.....I don't know how much longer I can do this."
"Mon," he whispered, taking her hand. "You're not.....giving up, are you?"
"No," she sighed. "At least.....I don't know, Chandler. I just.....I honestly don't know how much more I can take. They don't prepare you for stuff like this."
His heart went out to her, and he longed to be lying in that bed instead of her. He couldn't stand to see her in this kind of pain. "I know they don't," he replied. "But.....Mon, you can't just give up. There's so many people who need you. What would I do without you? What would Audrey do?"
As if on cue, Dr. Matthews walked in. "Hey, Monica, Chandler," he said in a friendly voice. Over the past month, he'd come to admire the young couple who cared so much about each other, particularly Chandler, a extraordinary young, but amazing father. "How're you feeling today?"
"Okay," Monica sighed. "But Dr. Matthews......I just......this is getting really rough."
Dr. Matthews nodded, and smiled. "Well, that's precisely why I've come bearing good news. You've responded pretty well to the chemo, and we think it's time to test you and see if you're ready for surgery. How's that sound?"
"Like music to my ears," Monica smiled, and Chandler laughed.
"Great!" Dr. Matthews said optimistically. "We'll be doing some scans and blood tests the day after tomorrow. I'll see you then."
Chandler sighed thankfully as the doctor left the room. "Saved by the doctor, huh?" he joked.
Monica smiled. "I hope it's over with, Chandler, I really do."
"It will be," Chandler assured her. "You're gonna beat this thing."
Two days later, Chandler stood outside Monica's hospital room. "It's gonna be fine," he whispered to Monica as they wheeled her off for a day of testing. "It's all gonna come back okay."
"Let's hope," Monica whispered. "'Love you."
"Love you, too," he whispered, kissed her, and then waved as she was rolled away.
"Please," he whispered, more to himself than anything. "Let it come back okay."
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