The serenity of Ross' mind that had occurred the enthralling night he proposed to the woman he loved was short-lived as of the next day. Even after an entire week following Ben's death, he was still unable to fall asleep without plunging into some sort of nightmare. At least once during the nighttime, Ross would wake up screaming and crying. Rachel would patiently hold and calm him as he finally drifted off again, only to relive the revulsion again and again. She also didn't press him to talk about the subject matter of his dreams when he would frenziedly refuse.
Rachel had been so wonderful and supportive that Ross couldn't even find the right words to let her know how much it meant to him. He would easily breakdown at the mere thought of losing her like he had Ben. Rachel would continually promise that she would never leave him under any circumstances, but Ross couldn't shake the recurring fear that the exact opposite would happen. He knew that she would never do so intentionally, but he also was aware that his son wouldn't have either if he could've helped it.
Rachel worried about Ross so much, that she had cut a great deal of work to stay with him. On this particular day, Ross had urged her to go, as he did not want to be responsible for her being fired again after she had already abandoned a dream opportunity for him. Rachel had finally caved and reluctantly gone, having sternly made Ross promise to immediately call her if he needed or even wanted anything.
Now Ross sat alone in his apartment on his couch, wedged in a daze of mixed emotions. A knock at his door startled him out of his intense reverie, and a morbid, unexplainable fear seized him.
"Who is it?" he called shakily. The door cautiously swung open to reveal his younger sister. Ross breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Monica crossed the room and to her brother's side on the couch.
"Sweetie, are you alright?" she asked, very concerned. "You're white as a sheet. Ross stared down at his hands.
"I'm fine," he muttered unconvincingly. "Just paranoid, I guess." Monica reached over and placed a solid arm around her brother. He wearily leaned his head on her shoulder and felt her hand gently rub his shoulder. The siblings sat in comfortable silence for the space of several minutes.
"I'm glad you came, Mon," Ross remarked, breaking the hush. Then he swallowed noticeably. "Will you so something with me?" he asked timidly. His sister turned her head and looked down at him with eyes filled with love and support.
"Of course. Anything." Monica's words and tone brought tears to Ross' eyes. To keep her from seeing them, he lifted his head and got up. Then he walked over to his bookshelf and retrieved a dust-collected photo album. He carried it with trembling hands back to the couch and resumed sitting beside his sister.
"What's this?" Monica asked gently. Ross took a deep breath and turned the cover of the thick book. On the first page was a simple arrangement of pictures depicting his newborn son.
"Pictures from when Ben was a baby," he responded, unable to keep his voice from breaking. Monica became worried and put her arm around his shoulders again.
"Ross, are you sure you're ready to do this? There's no rush, sweetie."
"Yes, Mon," Ross fought to sound determined. "I've been wanting to for a while, but I wanted you to be with me." Monica smiled tenderly and covered his hand with hers.
"I'm glad. I would never want you to have to do this alone."
Ross burrowed close to his sister for support and examined the photographs of his infant son through brimming tears, which he struggled to blink back.
"Look, it's you holding him for the first time. I remember what you said to him: 'Hey Ben. I'm you're Aunt Monica.'"
"'I'll always have gum.'" Monica finished with a soft laugh. "Aw, and it's him with you and Carol. I always knew that you two would make amazing parents in spite of your situation."
"Yeah." Ross said meekly with a stifled sob. Monica looked down to see him swiping his hand over his cheeks and her heart ached. She hated seeing her brother cry.
"Oh, honey, it's too soon." She gently closed the book and pulled Ross close to her. He turned his face and buried it in her shoulder, at last allowing himself to cry. She held him tightly and stroked his back.
"I can't take this anymore, Mon," came his muffled voice through broken sobs. "I keep having the nightmares that the same things is happening to Rach, Emma, you, Chandler, and everyone else I care about. Last night, I dreamed that Rachel was in a coma and brain dead, and then I saw you in a coffin. I can't fall asleep without waking up screaming anymore." Ross' words were between and followed by hitching cries. Monica's face tightened in sympathetic pain.
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve any of this, trust me. Everything will be fine, you'll see, You have all of us."
"I feel so empty all of the time. Even though I have Rachel, I'm so scared that she may leave me, whether it's on purpose or unintentional. All I ever do anymore is cry in front of her, and I wouldn't blame her for dropping me."
"Oh, God, no, Ross, Rachel loves you so much. She tells me all of the time lately how much she hates seeing you in pain and would do anything for you. And trust me, you're doing nothing wrong. If she loves you like she says, and I know she does, you have nothing to worry about. She'll always be there for you, never doubt that." Ross swallowed and attempted to calm down. It took him several minutes to do so.
"She tells me the same thing all the time. She's been the best and I love her so much for that. There's no one else I want to be with for the rest of my life. That part's not the problem. Ben's accident brutally reminded me that life's not perfect and things happen. I just can't bear even the thought of losing her or any of you too." He started to cry again. Monica held him securely, rubbing his back.
"I do know how you feel, sweetie. Ben's death brought me into the light, too. There have been time lately when I've been terrified out of my mind that I may lose Chandler, the babies, you—as unexpectedly as we lost Ben. But we can't live in fear. It furthermore means that we have to cherish what we still have and have faith that everything will be fine." Monica looked down at her brother's face, which was pressed against her jacket between her shoulder and neck. His bloodshot eyes, which were also rimmed with dark circles, stared blankly ahead. She placed her hand on the back of his head and gently stroked his dark hair.
"Honey, you look like you haven't rested in ages." She commented seriously. Ross sighed.
"I haven't slept well all week, even with Rachel by my side. I'm so tired, but I just can't catch a break." His eyes brimmed with fresh tears. Monica lifted one arm and took hold of a pillow on the end of the couch, which she placed in her lap.
"That's about to change," She said softy and patted the pillow. "Here, lie down." Ross complied and sighed contentedly, closing his eyes. Monica pulled down the blanket draped on top of the couch and spread it over him. She soothingly rubbed his arm and shoulder.
"I can't, Mon. I'm scared." Ross said suddenly and tried to sit up, but Monica adamantly held him down.
"Shh, sweetie, everything will be fine. I'm right here. Just keep telling yourself that. If you can fall asleep with a peaceful mid, you won't have nightmares."
"Do you promise?" Ross asked in a small, childlike voice.
"I promise." She replied reassuringly. With that, Ross' eyes closed, and eventually his breathing grew slow and steady. Monica continued to rub his back in soothing circles. After several minutes had passed, his placid expression tensed and became contorted with anguish.
Ross woke up in a cold sweat to find himself immobilized. He was
strapped to a wooden backboard from head to toe. A doctor walked in
and examined him grimly.
"Sir, you were in an accident. The cab you were riding in was
overturned. You severely bent your spine and sprained your neck. You
won't be moving or walking for a while."
Ross felt weak and ready to cry. Then he remembered something.
"Rachel..." he managed feebly. The doctor's expression became sad and defeated.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Gellar. But you're fiancée is dead..." The
doctor continued to ramble on, but Ross heard nothing more. Trembling
violently, he turned his eyes as far to the left as he could and
caught sight of a sheet-covered body lying on a stretcher. A limp arm
hung down one side. He cried out painfully when he recognized the
diamond ring displayed on the motionless third finger...
Ross moaned and jerked in his sleep. Monica instinctively held him closer and stroked his back and side, but the agonized sounds persisted.
Gripping her brother's hand tightly, Monica picked up his phone to dial Rachel's work number.
Rachel had been so wonderful and supportive that Ross couldn't even find the right words to let her know how much it meant to him. He would easily breakdown at the mere thought of losing her like he had Ben. Rachel would continually promise that she would never leave him under any circumstances, but Ross couldn't shake the recurring fear that the exact opposite would happen. He knew that she would never do so intentionally, but he also was aware that his son wouldn't have either if he could've helped it.
Rachel worried about Ross so much, that she had cut a great deal of work to stay with him. On this particular day, Ross had urged her to go, as he did not want to be responsible for her being fired again after she had already abandoned a dream opportunity for him. Rachel had finally caved and reluctantly gone, having sternly made Ross promise to immediately call her if he needed or even wanted anything.
Now Ross sat alone in his apartment on his couch, wedged in a daze of mixed emotions. A knock at his door startled him out of his intense reverie, and a morbid, unexplainable fear seized him.
"Who is it?" he called shakily. The door cautiously swung open to reveal his younger sister. Ross breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Monica crossed the room and to her brother's side on the couch.
"Sweetie, are you alright?" she asked, very concerned. "You're white as a sheet. Ross stared down at his hands.
"I'm fine," he muttered unconvincingly. "Just paranoid, I guess." Monica reached over and placed a solid arm around her brother. He wearily leaned his head on her shoulder and felt her hand gently rub his shoulder. The siblings sat in comfortable silence for the space of several minutes.
"I'm glad you came, Mon," Ross remarked, breaking the hush. Then he swallowed noticeably. "Will you so something with me?" he asked timidly. His sister turned her head and looked down at him with eyes filled with love and support.
"Of course. Anything." Monica's words and tone brought tears to Ross' eyes. To keep her from seeing them, he lifted his head and got up. Then he walked over to his bookshelf and retrieved a dust-collected photo album. He carried it with trembling hands back to the couch and resumed sitting beside his sister.
"What's this?" Monica asked gently. Ross took a deep breath and turned the cover of the thick book. On the first page was a simple arrangement of pictures depicting his newborn son.
"Pictures from when Ben was a baby," he responded, unable to keep his voice from breaking. Monica became worried and put her arm around his shoulders again.
"Ross, are you sure you're ready to do this? There's no rush, sweetie."
"Yes, Mon," Ross fought to sound determined. "I've been wanting to for a while, but I wanted you to be with me." Monica smiled tenderly and covered his hand with hers.
"I'm glad. I would never want you to have to do this alone."
Ross burrowed close to his sister for support and examined the photographs of his infant son through brimming tears, which he struggled to blink back.
"Look, it's you holding him for the first time. I remember what you said to him: 'Hey Ben. I'm you're Aunt Monica.'"
"'I'll always have gum.'" Monica finished with a soft laugh. "Aw, and it's him with you and Carol. I always knew that you two would make amazing parents in spite of your situation."
"Yeah." Ross said meekly with a stifled sob. Monica looked down to see him swiping his hand over his cheeks and her heart ached. She hated seeing her brother cry.
"Oh, honey, it's too soon." She gently closed the book and pulled Ross close to her. He turned his face and buried it in her shoulder, at last allowing himself to cry. She held him tightly and stroked his back.
"I can't take this anymore, Mon," came his muffled voice through broken sobs. "I keep having the nightmares that the same things is happening to Rach, Emma, you, Chandler, and everyone else I care about. Last night, I dreamed that Rachel was in a coma and brain dead, and then I saw you in a coffin. I can't fall asleep without waking up screaming anymore." Ross' words were between and followed by hitching cries. Monica's face tightened in sympathetic pain.
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve any of this, trust me. Everything will be fine, you'll see, You have all of us."
"I feel so empty all of the time. Even though I have Rachel, I'm so scared that she may leave me, whether it's on purpose or unintentional. All I ever do anymore is cry in front of her, and I wouldn't blame her for dropping me."
"Oh, God, no, Ross, Rachel loves you so much. She tells me all of the time lately how much she hates seeing you in pain and would do anything for you. And trust me, you're doing nothing wrong. If she loves you like she says, and I know she does, you have nothing to worry about. She'll always be there for you, never doubt that." Ross swallowed and attempted to calm down. It took him several minutes to do so.
"She tells me the same thing all the time. She's been the best and I love her so much for that. There's no one else I want to be with for the rest of my life. That part's not the problem. Ben's accident brutally reminded me that life's not perfect and things happen. I just can't bear even the thought of losing her or any of you too." He started to cry again. Monica held him securely, rubbing his back.
"I do know how you feel, sweetie. Ben's death brought me into the light, too. There have been time lately when I've been terrified out of my mind that I may lose Chandler, the babies, you—as unexpectedly as we lost Ben. But we can't live in fear. It furthermore means that we have to cherish what we still have and have faith that everything will be fine." Monica looked down at her brother's face, which was pressed against her jacket between her shoulder and neck. His bloodshot eyes, which were also rimmed with dark circles, stared blankly ahead. She placed her hand on the back of his head and gently stroked his dark hair.
"Honey, you look like you haven't rested in ages." She commented seriously. Ross sighed.
"I haven't slept well all week, even with Rachel by my side. I'm so tired, but I just can't catch a break." His eyes brimmed with fresh tears. Monica lifted one arm and took hold of a pillow on the end of the couch, which she placed in her lap.
"That's about to change," She said softy and patted the pillow. "Here, lie down." Ross complied and sighed contentedly, closing his eyes. Monica pulled down the blanket draped on top of the couch and spread it over him. She soothingly rubbed his arm and shoulder.
"I can't, Mon. I'm scared." Ross said suddenly and tried to sit up, but Monica adamantly held him down.
"Shh, sweetie, everything will be fine. I'm right here. Just keep telling yourself that. If you can fall asleep with a peaceful mid, you won't have nightmares."
"Do you promise?" Ross asked in a small, childlike voice.
"I promise." She replied reassuringly. With that, Ross' eyes closed, and eventually his breathing grew slow and steady. Monica continued to rub his back in soothing circles. After several minutes had passed, his placid expression tensed and became contorted with anguish.
Ross woke up in a cold sweat to find himself immobilized. He was
strapped to a wooden backboard from head to toe. A doctor walked in
and examined him grimly.
"Sir, you were in an accident. The cab you were riding in was
overturned. You severely bent your spine and sprained your neck. You
won't be moving or walking for a while."
Ross felt weak and ready to cry. Then he remembered something.
"Rachel..." he managed feebly. The doctor's expression became sad and defeated.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Gellar. But you're fiancée is dead..." The
doctor continued to ramble on, but Ross heard nothing more. Trembling
violently, he turned his eyes as far to the left as he could and
caught sight of a sheet-covered body lying on a stretcher. A limp arm
hung down one side. He cried out painfully when he recognized the
diamond ring displayed on the motionless third finger...
Ross moaned and jerked in his sleep. Monica instinctively held him closer and stroked his back and side, but the agonized sounds persisted.
Gripping her brother's hand tightly, Monica picked up his phone to dial Rachel's work number.