Chapter Nine: Hold On The Inside
*~*~*
"No."
Chandler could never have thought such a simple, short word like that could cause him so much pain. His heart panged, his brain whirring to the realisation that he could have Monica, or he could have his baby; but he could never have both.
The doctor stared at Monica. "Are you… sure?" she said cautiously, her own heart pounding, imagining the situation they both must be in.
"Yes," said Monica, as strong as she could. She tried desperately to avert her eyes from Chandler, who was sitting silently beside her. "I want this baby."
The doctor blinked, trying to see doubt in her patient's eyes; but the more she stared, the more definite Monica's answer seemed. Her deep eyes held strength, truth, longing.
"Are you sure?" repeated the doctor; seemingly unaware she'd already asked that question.
"You already asked that question," said Monica shortly. "Yes."
"Well… okay," said the doctor, surprised at the tears that sprang to her eyes. "Excuse me," she stammered, standing up. "I just need to… get something," she lied, pulling the door wide and rushing through it.
Monica rose from her chair, not looking down at Chandler. As she reached the door, she heard him rise, and let him sweep past her; but he was unable to stifle a sob as he turned the corner in his hurry, leaving Monica slowly following his footsteps.
*~*~*
Monica flung her head onto the counter as her purse slammed down against it. Her head was throbbing, her eyes raw from all the silent sobbing that she had done her best to hide from Chandler.
He hadn't said a word since before her answer. On the drive home, he had simply stared straight at the road, swerving through the cars ahead when he needed, eyes fixated on what invisible point ahead of him. She thought she had seen tears within his eyes when the setting sun had glinted between the clouds in the dulling sky; but he never let her see his face.
When they had arrived outside the apartment building, his slamming of doors and dismissal of her attempts to talk to him had told her that he needed to be without her for a while, and she had let him set off to wherever he wished without question.
'Stupid of me,' she thought, bashing her head against the wood beneath her forehead. 'He could have gone anywhere.' She pulled her head up, breathing deeply, trying desperately to calm herself.
She let her sweaty hand free of her black leather purse and wandered over to the window, staring out over the opposite apartment block to the dark sky. She saw fine rain was starting to fall, moon half visible as she peered further upward.
Coming to a hurried decision, she grabbed her jacket from its hook and fled from the apartment, pulling the door shut behind her quickly.
As she reached the doors of the building, the rain was beginning to lessen, clouds moving away from the city in the gusting wind. She pulled her coat tightly around herself, the wind chilling the bare skin above her slightly unbuttoned shirt, the top two hanging to either side of her chest. She stuffed her hands into her pockets, cursing as she discovered that her gloves were missing. She kept her hands buried in her pockets, trying to warm them against the freezing night wind. She pulled one quickly out, glancing at her watch.
9:00. She didn't understand how it had gotten so late. The streets were almost deserted as she walked down them, knowing precisely where she was headed. Lights glowed from apartment blocks, happy sounds of laughter and music coming from the partially opened windows. She sighed as she saw some kids running in one block at the end of the street, chatter effervescing happily from their innocent mouths.
She strode down the sidewalk, head down, carefully avoiding the litter and gum that lay on the paving. A car zoomed past, spraying rain up from its wheels, soaking the parallel sidewalk with water.
Monica looked up as she passed the coffeehouse, Phoebe's singing making some of the customers winch in pained sympathy for the masseuse, her hands wildly strumming on her guitar. Monica spotted Joey and Ross smiling encouragingly at her from the sofa, laughing quietly to each other as her song became louder. Rachel was carefully carrying her refilled coffee back toward to her seat, but quietly gasped when she saw Monica.
Monica gestured for her to stay inside, but Rachel stuffed her cup into someone's surprised hands and hurried outside. Monica was grateful for the small mercy that Ross and Joey were too amused by Phoebe's singing to see Rachel or Monica.
"Monica!" exclaimed Rachel, letting the door swing shut behind her. "How'd it go?" she asked, hope filling her eyes.
Monica sighed. "There's still some cancerous cells," she said quietly, her heart twitching as Rachel's expression became distraught.
"What?" she said sorrowfully. "How can that be? Are- are they sure?" she asked.
Monica nodded. "They said the only options left are chemo or radiotherapy," she added, wiping the tears collecting in her eyes quickly away.
Rachel gasped. "But… but the baby," she said, quickly realising what it meant. She looked deeply at Monica. "You didn't…" she asked, her eyes holding distress.
Monica nodded again.
Rachel gasped, her breath catching in her throat, tears collecting in her eyes. "But… Monica…" she whispered, staring at her in sorrow. "Oh…" she said quietly, and Monica let her tears fall with Rachel's, letting Rachel pull her into a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around her.
"I… it wasn't a nice decision to make," Monica said, trying to explain, and Rachel broke away.
"Monica," she said, her voice the most serious and sincere that Monica could ever remember coming from Rachel. "I know why you did it. You don't have to explain it to me," she said, smiling sadly at her best friend.
And Monica hugged her again, the overtures of Phoebe's song sounding loudly over the silent tears of the two on the lonely street outside.
*~*~*
As soon as Monica arrived at the entrance, she saw him. Sitting on the bench. The bench she knew hereby would be referred to as 'their bench'. Someone they always seemed to end up there.
And Monica knew, at that moment, that despite everything, they would stand together under a streaming sun and exchange rings and vows, tied together forever, despite where her body might be soon after. She knew she would always be with him in soul, if she couldn't be with him in body.
She walked nearer, slowly taking silent steps toward the bench, watching his still body, his head buried in his knees.
He looked up as she stood before him, not sitting down in the space that lay beside him.
"Aren't you going to sit down?" he asked flatly, his voice sounding emotionless to both their ears.
"I'd rather stand," she replied, trying to keep her voice level.
"Fine," he replied, standing himself. "Then I will too."
Monica sighed. "Chandler, this isn't a competition."
"What?" he said, as if he hadn't being paying attention to her words.
"Chandler, I know this is hard for you to understand…" she began, "but it's the right thing. Come home, we can talk about it…" she offered simply, knowing that it was too little too late. She tried to touch his arm, but he flew back from her, looking her straight in the eyes for the first time in hours.
"No, you don't understand!" he blasted, despair filling his tearful eyes, wind blowing his hair up into disarray as tears ran down his cheeks. "How can I live everyday around that baby when it's own mother, you, the woman I've loved more than anyone in my life, is dead?! Dead, dead and gone. You don't get it, do you? That baby will be my reminder that you sacrificed yourself. Every time I look at it, I'll see you, your eyes, your body, your life. You're life, gone, and all I'll have left is a baby."
"You think this is easy for me?" she yelled back, anger overcoming her tortured soul. "You think it was a simple decision for me, sitting in that office, having to decide between my life or my baby's?"
"You can get another baby," he said, starting to move nearer. "And you'll have a chance to be with it, with me… you don't need to do this," he said mournfully.
"They said that the treatment might lessen the chances of me getting pregnant again," she replied, her voice quietening.
"That doesn't mean-" said Chandler immediately, but she interrupted.
"But that's not even the point," she said. "I can't live knowing I let a baby die, Chandler… I can't."
"So you have to die because of it?" he cried.
"If that's what it means," she said quietly.
Chandler tried to understand, to comprehend, but he couldn't, and stuttered. "Monica… women get abortions all the time. They let babies die, all the time. But you're going to let yourself die just because of a baby that could easily be… got rid of," he stumbled, choking up at the thought of terminating his own baby.
"See?" she shouted. "You can't let it die, can you?"
"I can't let you die either!" he yelled, holding his hands on his head in desperation.
"Chandler, you have to! It's me or your baby," she said. "I chose the baby. I don't know what to do to try and help you," she admitted, moving closer, her breath heavy. "But I made the choice. It was my choice. And if you're not going to be there with me, then I might as well go and die now," she said softly, standing an inch away from him, not daring to touch him.
She saw the tears run down his cheeks, the despair in his eyes, the ache in his bones. She knew that it was hard, and she knew that it was just as hard for him as it was for her.
"I just…" he choked out. "How can I wake up everyday knowing you're not going to be next to me? Knowing I won't hear your voice? Knowing I'll never get another phone call that sounds like you're ready to bite the head of your sous-chef?" he said, raising a smile from her dry lips.
"I know it'll be hard. But there'll be a baby. Our baby. And I'll miss you to. You think it's easy thinking I won't be around with my child, watching them grow, watching them start kindergarten, watching them graduate, knowing they've had their first kiss? Being there at their wedding?" she cried, tears moving over her lips. "I don't want to miss all that stuff. But if I let this baby go, then I'll still be here… but without all that stuff. I want my kid to have a chance. He'll have you, Chandler. The best dad in the world," she smiled.
He smiled slightly, touching her cheek softly. "You think it's a boy?" he asked.
"Maybe," she whispered. "Maybe it is."