In A Lifetime
Chapter Five: Fluffy White Clouds
Disclaimer: You wanna hear this every time, don't you? You like what it does to me. You cruel, cruel people. Well, I'm not gonna say it. So :p
A/N: Not much to say.... apart from my craziness is lacking today, so Airy gets no crazy A/N, and please review! I think this my weakest chapter yet, but you have to tell me that, or I might start getting big-headed... or I might be severely bummed that no one reviewed.
Dedication: To Chris, who waited so patiently for this (sees glint of knife), and who was not at all threatening. Love ya Chris. *sees knife put away* Phew.
*~*~*
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks as though they're here to stay Oh, I believe in yesterday.
*~*~*
Chandler brushed back the blinds and looked down at the streets, the cars resembling tiny dots from his high office window. He watched them, zooming past, sighing at the fast paced New York City life. Sometimes he wished everyone would just stop, and give themselves time to think, time to breath.
A truck steamed by on the street below, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. For a moment, the people nearby stopped, coughing and spluttering. But then they moved on, walking again at hyper speed to get to their dead end, nine to five jobs, as the clock struck the hour.
Chandler turned away from the window, shaking his head. The world moved so fast. No one had time to deal with their problems properly.
All this had come upon him so quickly. It had been only a week since Monica had told him about the cancer, and he'd had no time to think. Doctor's appointments every day. Having to sit there, listening to the plans for his wife.
Surgery was in a week.
Chandler needed time. He knew it was Monica, not him, who was ill, who would undergo surgery... but she was his love, his girl... his one.
And he was going through just as much pain as her. Mentally. But it didn't matter, because she was the ill one. He just had to be there for support, for help. It didn't matter how he felt. He just had to deal with it.
He hadn't been able to face today's appointment. He'd made up an excuse about being stuck in a traffic jam, when in fact all he'd been doing was standing on the sidewalk outside of his office building - tears rolling down his face. Tears of fear. Tears of disappointment.
Tears of guilt.
Guilt. Guilt that he wasn't there when she needed him the most.
He sat down at his desk, swinging in his chair with his head in his hands.
Why should it matter about him? Why should it matter about the pain he was going through, seeing the love of his life go through such heartache? Why should it matter that he didn't know if he could deal with it, let alone how?
He didn't know what to do. He knew she needed him, needed him to be supportive. But he wasn't sure if he could do that.
He'd almost collapsed in the first appointment. How would he be able to cope, when she was... in there... having... that done?
Tears came just thinking about it. He knew he should be there, he wanted to be there... but he wasn't sure if he could handle it. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He loved Monica, he always would... but being there with her might be the thing that destroys them.
He stood up again, running a hand across off his forehead, feeling the sweat starting to gather there. He took off his jacket, throwing it over the chair at his desk. He pushed back the blinds again, looking out onto the horizon. Fluffy white clouds were scattered across the sky, floating harmlessly over the clear cut blue sky.
Why couldn't his life be simple, clear cut? Why couldn't his life be made from fluffy white clouds?
*~*~*
Suddenly, I'm not half to man I used to be, There's a shadow hanging over me. Oh, yesterday came suddenly.
*~*~*
Rachel looked up as Phoebe put her cup down on the table, and sat down next to Rachel. "Hey," said Rachel, not looking up from her magazine.
"Hey," said Phoebe, taking a sip from her coffee. "What are you reading?"
Rachel shoved the magazine out of sight. "Nothing," she said innocently.
Phoebe frowned. "Come on, Rach," she said, trying to lean across and grab the magazine. "Why won't you let me see?"
Rachel sighed, and let go of the magazine.
Phoebe looked down, and gasped. "Rachel, this is a breast cancer article! Why are you reading that?"
Rachel looked at her. "I just wanted to.... to know more about it. You know, for Monica."
Phoebe smiled. "Aww, that's sweet, Rach. Can I read?"
Rachel paused. "Yeah, I guess," she said, pulling the magazine into the middle of their legs. "Look, here, it says that 192,000 women are diagnosed each year."
Phoebe looked at her. "I didn't realise there were so many," she whispered.
Rachel sighed. "And Monica's one of them."
Phoebe sighed too. "We have to support her," she said. "She needs us."
Rachel nodded. "Pheebs?"
"Yeah?"
"I know it's... selfish of me to even think this, but I hope I never get breast cancer."
Phoebe nodded. "I know. That's why we have to be there with Monica. We can't just watch it. We have to help her."
"Do you think she's okay?"
Phoebe smiled. "I'm sure she's fine," she said. "I mean, Chandler's with her. You know as well as I do how much he loves her."
*~*~*
Monica tapped her fingers nervously as she waited for Chandler to arrive. She'd caught a taxi there, but it was late and all the taxis were taken. Besides, with all the traffic outside, it was impossible to even get near one.
Her heart was beating fast, so fast, she almost felt like it was coming out of her chest.
She felt like she was in a maze, lost in the tall hedges, and couldn't find her way out. Everywhere she turned was a dead end, and she had to keep turning back. She kept calling out Chandler's name, but he never came.
She was pregnant.
She had breast cancer, and she was pregnant.
What was she supposed to do now? It was impossible. She'd waited her whole life for a child, and now one had come- at the worst possible time.
The doctor had said it would work- she could still have the baby. But Monica wasn't sure whether that was the best thing. A child, while she goes through breast cancer treatment? A child, who reminds her always of this awful time? A child, who has always been wanted- except when it decided to come?
Monica looked around the room, observing all the waiting patients. A frazzled looking woman sat asleep in her chair, her children pulling things out of her purse as she snored. Monica smiled at them as one looked over at her, and then went back to throwing her mother's keys into a plant pot.
Monica felt fresh tears prick at her eyes, wiping them gently before they started rolling down her cheeks. Crying was the worst thing she could do. She needed to stay strong, or else she'd never get through this.
Children were so adorable to Monica, even when they were at their worst. Looking after Ben had been the highlight of Monica's days back when she had been a lowly diner waitress, and she still loved spending time with him. But he was growing up, and she already felt her nephew drawing away from her, towards his friends, towards his own life. She was just Aunt Monica, fun at organised indoor activities, there whenever you need her, but you never really did.
She desperately wanted children of her own. And looking at the two children on the floor, now retrieving the things they had dispersed through the room and playing with them, Monica's heart ached to hold a child in her arms, to kiss her child goodnight. To read them bedtime stories, to push them on the swings- to love them.
But to have a child like this, always serving a constant reminder of her illness.... it wouldn't be fair to the child. She'd never be able to look at it without remembering this time. And she didn't want that. She wanted her child to be loved as much as she could, with all her heart.
She didn't know what to do.
She needed Chandler.
He'd been great for the past week, always there at the appointment's, hardly ever leaving her alone, skipping work altogether on a couple of days, always putting on a brave face.
But she had seen him when he thought he was alone, crying, his head in his hands, looking utterly exhausted. She had tried to tell him that he didn't have to do all this, but he wouldn't listen, insisting that he had to.
But she couldn't let him. She loved him, more than anyone, ever... and she didn't like to see him go through this. If anything, it made her feel worse, all this pressure on him, all the work.... And she loved him too much to let him go through this.
Chandler.
She looked up, hearing footsteps quickening as he grew nearer, and she stood up, smiling at him, as he sped up to a run, falling into her outstretched arms. He held her tight, smelling in the scent of her hair, and burying his face in her shoulder.
"Monica," he said, muffled. "I'm so, so so sorry, sweetie."
She smiled as they pulled apart, giving him a light kiss on the lips in a sign of forgiveness. "That's okay," she whispered. "I understand."
Chandler smiled. "So?" he said impatiently. "What did the doctor say?"
Monica swallowed. "Well.... I went in with something to tell her, so we spent most of the appointment talking about that," she said slowly and warily.
Chandler waved his hand impatiently. "And, and?"
"I'm pregnant."
Chandler froze.
Monica felt tears at her cheeks again, even though this was exactly what she's expected. "Chandler, please, says something," she said, pleadingly.
Chandler's eyes moved to look at her, the rest of his body still frozen. "What?" he said.
Monica looked down sadly. "I'm- I'm pregnant, Chandler. I'm going to have a baby."
Chandler suddenly started moving again, his movements jerky and erratic, looking around at the floor, anywhere but at Monica. "This- this is impossible," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "You- you can't be- no- it's impossible..." he said, chattering.
Monica attempted to grab his hand, but he pulled it away, staring at her. "I- I gotta go," he said, turning away.
Monica touched his shoulder, but he shrugged her off, walking away. He sped up to a run as they reached the hospital doors, Monica following as best she could, her breath running out quickly.
"Chandler!" she yelled, as she stopped, her breath quickened, and she saw him vanish down the street, lost in a haze of cars and people, all rushing in the busy city centre.
Chapter Five: Fluffy White Clouds
Disclaimer: You wanna hear this every time, don't you? You like what it does to me. You cruel, cruel people. Well, I'm not gonna say it. So :p
A/N: Not much to say.... apart from my craziness is lacking today, so Airy gets no crazy A/N, and please review! I think this my weakest chapter yet, but you have to tell me that, or I might start getting big-headed... or I might be severely bummed that no one reviewed.
Dedication: To Chris, who waited so patiently for this (sees glint of knife), and who was not at all threatening. Love ya Chris. *sees knife put away* Phew.
*~*~*
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks as though they're here to stay Oh, I believe in yesterday.
*~*~*
Chandler brushed back the blinds and looked down at the streets, the cars resembling tiny dots from his high office window. He watched them, zooming past, sighing at the fast paced New York City life. Sometimes he wished everyone would just stop, and give themselves time to think, time to breath.
A truck steamed by on the street below, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. For a moment, the people nearby stopped, coughing and spluttering. But then they moved on, walking again at hyper speed to get to their dead end, nine to five jobs, as the clock struck the hour.
Chandler turned away from the window, shaking his head. The world moved so fast. No one had time to deal with their problems properly.
All this had come upon him so quickly. It had been only a week since Monica had told him about the cancer, and he'd had no time to think. Doctor's appointments every day. Having to sit there, listening to the plans for his wife.
Surgery was in a week.
Chandler needed time. He knew it was Monica, not him, who was ill, who would undergo surgery... but she was his love, his girl... his one.
And he was going through just as much pain as her. Mentally. But it didn't matter, because she was the ill one. He just had to be there for support, for help. It didn't matter how he felt. He just had to deal with it.
He hadn't been able to face today's appointment. He'd made up an excuse about being stuck in a traffic jam, when in fact all he'd been doing was standing on the sidewalk outside of his office building - tears rolling down his face. Tears of fear. Tears of disappointment.
Tears of guilt.
Guilt. Guilt that he wasn't there when she needed him the most.
He sat down at his desk, swinging in his chair with his head in his hands.
Why should it matter about him? Why should it matter about the pain he was going through, seeing the love of his life go through such heartache? Why should it matter that he didn't know if he could deal with it, let alone how?
He didn't know what to do. He knew she needed him, needed him to be supportive. But he wasn't sure if he could do that.
He'd almost collapsed in the first appointment. How would he be able to cope, when she was... in there... having... that done?
Tears came just thinking about it. He knew he should be there, he wanted to be there... but he wasn't sure if he could handle it. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He loved Monica, he always would... but being there with her might be the thing that destroys them.
He stood up again, running a hand across off his forehead, feeling the sweat starting to gather there. He took off his jacket, throwing it over the chair at his desk. He pushed back the blinds again, looking out onto the horizon. Fluffy white clouds were scattered across the sky, floating harmlessly over the clear cut blue sky.
Why couldn't his life be simple, clear cut? Why couldn't his life be made from fluffy white clouds?
*~*~*
Suddenly, I'm not half to man I used to be, There's a shadow hanging over me. Oh, yesterday came suddenly.
*~*~*
Rachel looked up as Phoebe put her cup down on the table, and sat down next to Rachel. "Hey," said Rachel, not looking up from her magazine.
"Hey," said Phoebe, taking a sip from her coffee. "What are you reading?"
Rachel shoved the magazine out of sight. "Nothing," she said innocently.
Phoebe frowned. "Come on, Rach," she said, trying to lean across and grab the magazine. "Why won't you let me see?"
Rachel sighed, and let go of the magazine.
Phoebe looked down, and gasped. "Rachel, this is a breast cancer article! Why are you reading that?"
Rachel looked at her. "I just wanted to.... to know more about it. You know, for Monica."
Phoebe smiled. "Aww, that's sweet, Rach. Can I read?"
Rachel paused. "Yeah, I guess," she said, pulling the magazine into the middle of their legs. "Look, here, it says that 192,000 women are diagnosed each year."
Phoebe looked at her. "I didn't realise there were so many," she whispered.
Rachel sighed. "And Monica's one of them."
Phoebe sighed too. "We have to support her," she said. "She needs us."
Rachel nodded. "Pheebs?"
"Yeah?"
"I know it's... selfish of me to even think this, but I hope I never get breast cancer."
Phoebe nodded. "I know. That's why we have to be there with Monica. We can't just watch it. We have to help her."
"Do you think she's okay?"
Phoebe smiled. "I'm sure she's fine," she said. "I mean, Chandler's with her. You know as well as I do how much he loves her."
*~*~*
Monica tapped her fingers nervously as she waited for Chandler to arrive. She'd caught a taxi there, but it was late and all the taxis were taken. Besides, with all the traffic outside, it was impossible to even get near one.
Her heart was beating fast, so fast, she almost felt like it was coming out of her chest.
She felt like she was in a maze, lost in the tall hedges, and couldn't find her way out. Everywhere she turned was a dead end, and she had to keep turning back. She kept calling out Chandler's name, but he never came.
She was pregnant.
She had breast cancer, and she was pregnant.
What was she supposed to do now? It was impossible. She'd waited her whole life for a child, and now one had come- at the worst possible time.
The doctor had said it would work- she could still have the baby. But Monica wasn't sure whether that was the best thing. A child, while she goes through breast cancer treatment? A child, who reminds her always of this awful time? A child, who has always been wanted- except when it decided to come?
Monica looked around the room, observing all the waiting patients. A frazzled looking woman sat asleep in her chair, her children pulling things out of her purse as she snored. Monica smiled at them as one looked over at her, and then went back to throwing her mother's keys into a plant pot.
Monica felt fresh tears prick at her eyes, wiping them gently before they started rolling down her cheeks. Crying was the worst thing she could do. She needed to stay strong, or else she'd never get through this.
Children were so adorable to Monica, even when they were at their worst. Looking after Ben had been the highlight of Monica's days back when she had been a lowly diner waitress, and she still loved spending time with him. But he was growing up, and she already felt her nephew drawing away from her, towards his friends, towards his own life. She was just Aunt Monica, fun at organised indoor activities, there whenever you need her, but you never really did.
She desperately wanted children of her own. And looking at the two children on the floor, now retrieving the things they had dispersed through the room and playing with them, Monica's heart ached to hold a child in her arms, to kiss her child goodnight. To read them bedtime stories, to push them on the swings- to love them.
But to have a child like this, always serving a constant reminder of her illness.... it wouldn't be fair to the child. She'd never be able to look at it without remembering this time. And she didn't want that. She wanted her child to be loved as much as she could, with all her heart.
She didn't know what to do.
She needed Chandler.
He'd been great for the past week, always there at the appointment's, hardly ever leaving her alone, skipping work altogether on a couple of days, always putting on a brave face.
But she had seen him when he thought he was alone, crying, his head in his hands, looking utterly exhausted. She had tried to tell him that he didn't have to do all this, but he wouldn't listen, insisting that he had to.
But she couldn't let him. She loved him, more than anyone, ever... and she didn't like to see him go through this. If anything, it made her feel worse, all this pressure on him, all the work.... And she loved him too much to let him go through this.
Chandler.
She looked up, hearing footsteps quickening as he grew nearer, and she stood up, smiling at him, as he sped up to a run, falling into her outstretched arms. He held her tight, smelling in the scent of her hair, and burying his face in her shoulder.
"Monica," he said, muffled. "I'm so, so so sorry, sweetie."
She smiled as they pulled apart, giving him a light kiss on the lips in a sign of forgiveness. "That's okay," she whispered. "I understand."
Chandler smiled. "So?" he said impatiently. "What did the doctor say?"
Monica swallowed. "Well.... I went in with something to tell her, so we spent most of the appointment talking about that," she said slowly and warily.
Chandler waved his hand impatiently. "And, and?"
"I'm pregnant."
Chandler froze.
Monica felt tears at her cheeks again, even though this was exactly what she's expected. "Chandler, please, says something," she said, pleadingly.
Chandler's eyes moved to look at her, the rest of his body still frozen. "What?" he said.
Monica looked down sadly. "I'm- I'm pregnant, Chandler. I'm going to have a baby."
Chandler suddenly started moving again, his movements jerky and erratic, looking around at the floor, anywhere but at Monica. "This- this is impossible," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "You- you can't be- no- it's impossible..." he said, chattering.
Monica attempted to grab his hand, but he pulled it away, staring at her. "I- I gotta go," he said, turning away.
Monica touched his shoulder, but he shrugged her off, walking away. He sped up to a run as they reached the hospital doors, Monica following as best she could, her breath running out quickly.
"Chandler!" she yelled, as she stopped, her breath quickened, and she saw him vanish down the street, lost in a haze of cars and people, all rushing in the busy city centre.