Ross woke up to another excruciatingly agonizing headache, even worst than before. Not remembering where he was at first, he pushed himself out of bed and immediately crumpled to the ground when trying to stand on his left foot. Then he recalled the night before. Rachel had gently informed him that he had amnesia and had patiently recounted the past five years for him, held his hand, and overall been a gratifying source of comfort. But now he had never felt more helpless and alone, and felt oncoming tears sting his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Ross heard Phoebe's voice ask. He then felt each of his arms being grasped as he was assisted to his feet and led back to the bed. When he turned around, he saw that his supplementary aide was a short, shaggy haired man whom he didn't recognize.
Phoebe was sitting next to Ross on the bed, still holding his arm. The man who had acompanied her stood closer to the door with his hands in his pockets, looking nervous. "Are you okay?" Phoebe repeated.
Ross shrugged. "I guess so. My ankle really kills now."
"Maybe you should have it looked at."
"I don't know. I'm not really in the mood for more X-rays."
She nodded in understanding. Then she gestured to the shaggy-haired man. "Ross, I don't know if there's any way you remember my husband Mike?"
Ross scrutinized this Mike, trying hard to make a connection. The attempt made his headache worse. Suddenly, Ross saw Rachel standing at the doorway, shaking visibly. When she saw that Ross had noticed her presence, she spoke up.
"Pheebs, Mike, can I have a moment with Ross? There's something I have to tell him."
Phoebe assumed that this had to do with breaking the news about Emma to him, and she nodded to Mike, who followed her out of the room. Rachel closed the door and slowly walked to Ross' bedside. She sighed, sat down, and took both of his hands.
"What's going on, Rach?" Ross asked, suddenly afraid.
Rachel looked at him, tears forming in her eyes. "Ross, there has been an accident."
"What are you talking about?"
"Carol and Ben were on their way to come see you, and got hit by a car full of teenagers, presumably drinking. Carol cracked a few ribs and fractured an arm, but she'll be okay. And..and..."
"And Ben?" Ross was shaking hard and his palms were sweating in Rachel's hands.
"Oh, God, honey, I'm so sorry. But Ben didn't make it."
Ross turned away from Rachel and stared off into space, numb with shock.
"No." he said, monotonously at first. He then shook his head vehemently. "No. Please tell me it's not true. Please tell me Rachel!" he practically screamed, tears gathering in his eyes.
Rachel pulled him close to her, holding him tight. "Shh. I'm so sorry, sweetie. I'm so sorry." She kept repeating these words over and over again.
Ross allowed her to hold him for a few minutes, but once the shock wore off, he felt nauseous and immediately pulled away. "I'm gonna be sick." Were the last words that came out of Ross' mouth before he was in the bathroom, having ignored the blinding pain he had caused his foot to get there. After that, all that escaped was vomit. In no time, Rachel was right behind him, holding him steady and rubbing his back until the first round stopped. For a moment, all seemed clear, but then his stomach heaved again.
When at last Ross had ceased throwing up, he turned and leaned against the side of the shower. Rachel left his side only for a minute to retrieve a glass lying on the sink ledge and fill it with cold water. Then she sat down next to Ross and held the glass to his mouth. He shakily grasped her wrist and drained the water within seconds. Then he looked over at her, his face streaked with tears and body shaking violently. Rachel reached over and wrapped a shielding arm around him, and he hid his face in her shoulder.
"Why?" he sobbed. "Why did this happen? Why?"
"I wish I could answer that, sweetie." Rachel whispered. "Even more, I wish I could make this all go away for you."
Ross continued to cry. "Oh honey, shh, take a deep breath. It's all going to be fine." She soothed, although she was doubtful that that would ever be true. Things had gone from bad to worse in the space of twenty-four hours, and all she wanted to do was take the indescribable pain Ross was feeling and instill it within herself. He had been going through enough already.
Not if you had done something, she reminded herself. If she ever lived to be one hundred, she would never forget or stop regretting the pain she had consciously caused Ross the night before. If it hadn't been for her, then he would still have the last five years of his life, and he would be happy, which was something she wanted more than anything to make him. Either way, she would have needed to be there for him, because now he had lost his only son as well.
Rachel continued to hold Ross, and let him cry. There and then, she silently vowed never to leave his side again, despite any circumstances.
"Shh, sweetie, I'm here,"
"Are you okay?" Ross heard Phoebe's voice ask. He then felt each of his arms being grasped as he was assisted to his feet and led back to the bed. When he turned around, he saw that his supplementary aide was a short, shaggy haired man whom he didn't recognize.
Phoebe was sitting next to Ross on the bed, still holding his arm. The man who had acompanied her stood closer to the door with his hands in his pockets, looking nervous. "Are you okay?" Phoebe repeated.
Ross shrugged. "I guess so. My ankle really kills now."
"Maybe you should have it looked at."
"I don't know. I'm not really in the mood for more X-rays."
She nodded in understanding. Then she gestured to the shaggy-haired man. "Ross, I don't know if there's any way you remember my husband Mike?"
Ross scrutinized this Mike, trying hard to make a connection. The attempt made his headache worse. Suddenly, Ross saw Rachel standing at the doorway, shaking visibly. When she saw that Ross had noticed her presence, she spoke up.
"Pheebs, Mike, can I have a moment with Ross? There's something I have to tell him."
Phoebe assumed that this had to do with breaking the news about Emma to him, and she nodded to Mike, who followed her out of the room. Rachel closed the door and slowly walked to Ross' bedside. She sighed, sat down, and took both of his hands.
"What's going on, Rach?" Ross asked, suddenly afraid.
Rachel looked at him, tears forming in her eyes. "Ross, there has been an accident."
"What are you talking about?"
"Carol and Ben were on their way to come see you, and got hit by a car full of teenagers, presumably drinking. Carol cracked a few ribs and fractured an arm, but she'll be okay. And..and..."
"And Ben?" Ross was shaking hard and his palms were sweating in Rachel's hands.
"Oh, God, honey, I'm so sorry. But Ben didn't make it."
Ross turned away from Rachel and stared off into space, numb with shock.
"No." he said, monotonously at first. He then shook his head vehemently. "No. Please tell me it's not true. Please tell me Rachel!" he practically screamed, tears gathering in his eyes.
Rachel pulled him close to her, holding him tight. "Shh. I'm so sorry, sweetie. I'm so sorry." She kept repeating these words over and over again.
Ross allowed her to hold him for a few minutes, but once the shock wore off, he felt nauseous and immediately pulled away. "I'm gonna be sick." Were the last words that came out of Ross' mouth before he was in the bathroom, having ignored the blinding pain he had caused his foot to get there. After that, all that escaped was vomit. In no time, Rachel was right behind him, holding him steady and rubbing his back until the first round stopped. For a moment, all seemed clear, but then his stomach heaved again.
When at last Ross had ceased throwing up, he turned and leaned against the side of the shower. Rachel left his side only for a minute to retrieve a glass lying on the sink ledge and fill it with cold water. Then she sat down next to Ross and held the glass to his mouth. He shakily grasped her wrist and drained the water within seconds. Then he looked over at her, his face streaked with tears and body shaking violently. Rachel reached over and wrapped a shielding arm around him, and he hid his face in her shoulder.
"Why?" he sobbed. "Why did this happen? Why?"
"I wish I could answer that, sweetie." Rachel whispered. "Even more, I wish I could make this all go away for you."
Ross continued to cry. "Oh honey, shh, take a deep breath. It's all going to be fine." She soothed, although she was doubtful that that would ever be true. Things had gone from bad to worse in the space of twenty-four hours, and all she wanted to do was take the indescribable pain Ross was feeling and instill it within herself. He had been going through enough already.
Not if you had done something, she reminded herself. If she ever lived to be one hundred, she would never forget or stop regretting the pain she had consciously caused Ross the night before. If it hadn't been for her, then he would still have the last five years of his life, and he would be happy, which was something she wanted more than anything to make him. Either way, she would have needed to be there for him, because now he had lost his only son as well.
Rachel continued to hold Ross, and let him cry. There and then, she silently vowed never to leave his side again, despite any circumstances.
"Shh, sweetie, I'm here,"