What's Love Got to Do With It?
A/N: Never thought you'd hear from us again, eh?Um, oops, we both kind of forgot about this fic again. Well, in our defense, we've been very busy lately – what with Becca's college search and Yen's…Orlando Bloom obsession – it's taken up a lot of our time! If there are any loyal readers still out there, well, we thank you for sticking with us through thick in thin. With that said, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present the 9th and final chapter of What's Love Got to Do With it? That was cheesy. ::gets hits with pies:: (And it wasn't the exact line, but it sounds better for joking purposes.)
Disclaimer: We own the world, mwahahaha! Just kidding, we own nothing. :p We also don't know the exact melting point for igneous rock, so if it offends you that we made up a temperature then, no offense, but get a life. ;)
Chandler sat on the barkalounger in the living room, staring before him but not really seeing anything at all. How did everything get so complicated? He wished that he could make it all change back to how it had been before he had met Monica. Joey would not be mad at him, while Chandler, on the other hand, would not be disgusted by his friend's secret. Ignorance was now merely a dream that he could no longer grasp. Most of all, though, Chandler could transform back to the bumbling, pathetic fool that he had been before Monica; although ashamed of himself before, at least he had not been so utterly appalled and frustrated with himself.
Even though he wished to believe that Monica and Joey were the vile people, and he the respectable one, he was slowly realizing this to be completely untrue. He really had acted like a prick. Before, although he could identify this, it was hard to really accept it as the truth. But here he was, sitting at home with the desire to do nothing but wallow in self pity – the truth was staring him square in the eyes. He was alone because he had judged those he loved.
Well, this is great, he muttered as he sighed and laid back on the chair. Chandler had a sudden urge to go into his bedroom and fish out his comfortable sweatpants and NYU t-shirt, break open a carton of Ben and Jerry's ice cream and waste his life away. However, just as he began to rise from the chair, the front door opened. Chandler plopped back in his chair, unsure and slightly nervous of Joey's earlier anger.
Joey dropped his keys on the table next to the door and shed his jacket, laying it haphazardly on the foosball table. He shuffled around the kitchen for a few minutes, every now and then glancing up at Chandler, who was seemingly concentrating very deeply upon last week'sTV Guide.
Finally, Joey left the kitchen and sat down in the barklalounger beside Chandler, beer in hand. He took a sip of the drink, before placing it on the floor beside him and raising the footrest of the chair. They each sat facing the wall, neither willing to look at the other for a time. Finally, Chandler, feeling fed up with himself and the silence that he had inadvertently caused, he sighed and turned to Joey.
"Look Joey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said the things I said to you. They weren't true, really."
Joey smiled wryly, "I know you're sorry, but I also know that you still think they're true," Chandler shook his head, "Come on, man, of course they're true! Look, I'm not saying that everything you said was true, but what you said about me –" Joey looked down sadly, "You hit the nail right on the head there. This is wrong – it's all wrong," he sighed, "I'd never thought about it before because, well, it worked for me. I'm not exactly the smartest guy in the world and I suck at acting, apparently - and well, there isn't much out there that could make me this kind of money. I know I'm being selfish."
"Hey, you know, I was being too harsh. I probably would've acted in the same way you did if given the chance. I mean when Monica came in here looking for sex, I – I, well," he swallowed with difficulty, "I gave it to her, didn't I?"
"That is true. But it's also not the point. The point is that you're right and I'm sorry. For everything. For lying to you, for never being there for you when you were always here for me, and most of all, I'm sorry for blowing you off when you were really upset. I know you love Monica. I believe you. It's still hard for me to accept, but I'm trying. I don't understand much about love, being that I've never been in love, but I do understand that there's more to it than I understand," Chandler raised his eyebrows curiously, "Well, that didn't make any sense, but yeah –" Joey looked down sheepishly.
"No, it did make sense. And it's true. You can't know what it feels like to be in love unless you really are. And I am, Joey. I really, truly am. It's like – it's like I live and breath Monica," he paused, "Now, I know that sounds more like I'm stalking her, but it's – it's different."
Joey laughed, "I'll take your word."
"Thanks. So, are we – are we good?"
"Almost. I just have one more thing to tell you."
"What's that?"
"Where to find Monica."
Chandler froze as he felt his mouth go suddenly dry, "What?" he croaked.
"I know where you could find her," Chandler did not react, so Joey continued, "I was talking to Rachel, who was the one who sent Monica to me, and well, this and that happened, and she kind of let it slip that Monica's brother's in Mt. Sinai Hospital. She visits him every night after work," Although Chandler sat wordlessly, Joey could tell he was processing this new information, "I don't know what floor or room or anything – this is the best I can do."
"You think – do you think – I should go – to her?"
"Yeah!"
"But won't she be mad and think I'm like – invading her privacy?"
"Well, try to convince her otherwise. As much as I can see, this is your last chance. She'll never willingly see you now that she admitted she feels something for you but doesn't want to act on it."
"I – I guess."
"Well, what are you waiting for? GO!"
Chandler stood up and paused nervously, "Do I look all right?"
"Does it really matter? You look fine. Now go!"
"Okay, okay," Chandler mumbled before running out the door without a backwards glance.
-
Monica sat quietly in her brother's hospital room, staring blankly at the small television that Ross' eyes were fixated on. They were watching some Discovery Channel show that Monica was not the least bit interested in, but Ross was completely oblivious to that fact.
"Look!" he pointed at the television, "Did you know that igneous rock melts at 189 degrees Fahrenheit?!"
"That's great Ross," she deadpanned.
As he once again lost himself in the documentary, Monica let her mind wander. She wasn't sure of how to think of her life anymore. Everything had become so utterly muddled up that she could no longer tell the different between truth and fiction. Was Ross really going to die? Did Chandler really love her? Was she really a prostitute? None of it mattered anyway. Her life was nothing but a series of endless confusion that she coped with only by denial.
It was past eleven o'clock now and Monica was dosing in her chair. Suddenly, a soft knock on the door caused her to jump up in alarm. She exchanged a confused look with Ross, knowing quite well that nurses rarely knocked on hospital doors, especially not when a patient may be asleep. Stretching as she rose, Monica headed toward the door and opened it. However, upon seeing Chandler on the other side of the door, Monica quickly closed it again.
"Who was that?"
"No one."
Monica made a move to head back to the chair, but Ross' questioning continued, "There's someone there – I can see him through the window!"
Monica sighed and stalked toward the door once again, flinging it opened with angry force.
"What do you want?" she spat.
"I want to come and tell you that I love you," she was about to speak but he cut her off, "Love has everything to do with it! Please, give me a chance to make things right."
She frowned, "How'd you know I was here?"
"Joey told me," he paused, "I'm so sorry about your brother."
Monica laughed bitterly, "You really are a bastard."
"Please Monica, I know I am, but –"
"You don't deserve a second chance."
"I know, but you could just – give me one anyway."
"And why should I?"
"Because I love you!" he paused, lowering his voice, "And no matter how much you deny it, I know you love me, too."
"Yeah right."
"Monica."
"No, please get out."
"But –"
"I said get out!"
Chandler sighed, "Fine. But before I go, let me tell you this. You feel alone in life, don't you? Your parents are no longer alive, your brother's sick and has little strength to worry about you, and your friends have to look out for themselves, just like you, so they can't be bothered helping you out. Monica, I might have been an idiot before, but not again. I would be there for you unconditionally."
"I would give you more love than you'd ever know what to do with. I would be there when the nightmares come, which I know they do," he dropped his eyes, "I can see it in your face – I can see the pain and suffering. You're too young to have to deal with this alone. Let me be there to kiss away your tears. I know you want to be independent. I won't take that away from you. But I also know that the longing to be loved and to love in return is eating away at you. I know this because it's eating away at me, too."
Chandler then nodded solemnly at her, before walking out the door.
"Who was that?" Ross wondered.
Monica, however, did not hear Ross. She merely sighed and watched as Chandler walked down the hall and out of sight. Part of her wanted to follow, but her feet seemed to be glued to the floor.
-
Joey pounded mercilessly on Chandler's bedroom door, but Chandler refused to budge. This had been going on for twenty minutes. Chandler hadn't left his bedroom since he saw Monica. When he arrived home, he refused to even look Joey in the eye and he ignored his pleas to tell him what happened. Now, completely distraught and disheveled, Chandler lay face down on his bed, stiff and unthinking.
Finally, after some time, Joey had evidently given up pounding on the door because there was silence. After a moment, Chandler heard muffled voices and covered his head with his pillow. Whoever it was, Chandler did not care to think about them. No, he much rather lay there – not quite thinking about the cause of all his distress, yet at the same time knowing the pain was there deep in his heart for that very reason.
The knocking resumed and Chandler buried himself even more under the covers.
"Go away!" he yelled.
He was in no mood to share any details with Joey. He was utterly humiliated by what he had done and especially by what he had admitted to Monica. He wanted to curl up into a ball on his bed and never see the world again.
"Chandler!" Joey called, "Chandler, someone's here to see you!"
Great, just what he needed – visitors.
"I don't want to see anyone!"
"Yeah, Chandler, I think you do!"
"No, for the last time, go away!"
There was a pause and some shuffling outside his door. Chandler listened, curious, despite himself.
"Chandler?"
He felt his blood run cold at the sound of her familiar yet foreign voice. It pierced the very essence of him.
"Chandler, can we please talk?"
Suddenly, Chandler jumped up, hopping in his place as he pulled his pants over his boxers and fixed his hair all at once. In less than minute, Chandler was opening the door and staring at Monica. She looked back at him, suddenly filled with extreme anxiety. She backed away from the doorframe so that Chandler could enter the living room. As he did so, his eyes never left hers.
"Right," Joey called awkwardly, "I'm just gonna – go get some coffee. See you guys later!"
Neither of them acknowledged his comment, although they were both grateful for it, and he slipped away without another word. Silence filled the room as Chandler walked over to the refrigerator and offered her a drink. She declined. Silence again. Chandler dubiously studied her again. He would say something, despite the loud thumping of his heart in his chest, but he really had nothing to say. It was she who had come to him.
"So…"
"Yeah, I guess I should – yeah," she rambled incoherently, "I came here for a reason."
"So I gathered."
"What you said last night – you were right," upon his shocked silence she continued, "I am alone. I'm so alone that it scares me to my very core. I don't want to be alone anymore," her eyes filled with tears, "I don't want to be hurt, but I especially don't want to be alone. Solitude is more painful than anything else," Chandler nodded wordlessly, "You're also right that I love you. I don't know how, I don't know when, but somehow you – you managed to do it," she shook her head, "I thought I'd hardened myself."
"Love isn't about softening," he heard himself unconsciously mumble, "Love is about giving in to your most instinctive desire. It's allowing yourself to feel emotion – comfort and pain. Love is all of that. You're stabbing my heart, Monica, and yet – you're the one thing that keeps me living."
"That's exactly how I feel," she whispered.
Taking that as a sign, Chandler approached her slowly. Although there was still a gap between their bodies, Chandler wrapped his arms around Monica's waist. She made no move to pull away, so he allowed his fingers to tenderly roam over the soft skin of her face. She felt her muscles relax as his fingers reached her lips and lightly brushed against them.
Simultaneously, they closed the gap. Chandler's lips hovered slightly above Monica's, and she could feel his breath on her skin. Her lips parted and immediately she felt Chandler's lips upon hers. She sighed and closed her eyes, as she felt the warmth of his body against hers fill up all the cold, aching holes inside her heart.
Finally, she was not alone.
A/N: So, that only took us – a year to finish? Not bad, eh? Anyway, if all goes according to plan, an epilogue will be posted in the near future, so hang tight. Please leave a review – thanks for reading! :)