In A Lifetime

Chapter Ten: Heavy In My Heart

Disclaimer: I don't own them… and no, that is not Jennifer Aniston hiding in my closet…

A/N: Er… hello. I feel like I need to reintroduce myself, the length of time I let this drop for. I got a little caught up in the ER fanfiction world (it rocks, dontchaknow), and just… didn't work on this. But some prodding from a certain few people [cough] finally made me move my lazy ass and write some. Thus, there is this. Read and review, as usual, mmkay? And I swear I won't take as long with the next chapter.

And may I just say… 100 reviews! Woot woot, go me!..... Okay, I'm done now. Hee.

Dedication: To the fantastic Danielle, for loving this story, and for giving me her thoughts. You rock, uh-huh uh-huh.

"Chandler?"

"Mmm?"

It was dark, and they were asleep, lying side by side in bed. Chandler lay on his side, slowly being lulled to sleep as he faced the wall; but Monica had been staring up at the ceiling for over an hour, and now decided to tell him about what she had been thinking about for all that time.

"I'm going to leave work," she said, softly.

Almost asleep, Chandler hadn't really been paying attention, so he just murmured softly back. "Uh-huh. Good idea, honey," he said tiredly.

She finally took her eyes away from the stop she'd been staring at, and looked down at him. "Chandler, did you hear what I said?" she asked, almost incredulously.

He didn't move. "Yeah, honey. You have work tomorrow," he groaned, pulling the duvet further over himself.

Monica rolled her eyes, smiling to herself despite how she felt. "No, Chandler, I said I'm going to leave work," she said, louder than before.

She didn't see, but Chandler's eyes suddenly snapped open, and he rolled over, staring at her. "What?" he said, in disbelief.

"I'm quitting work," she said, staring back. "I'm just going to get sick, so it makes sense to leave now, doesn't it?" she said, not really asking the question to him, but to herself.

He frowned, and she saw tears, small, tiny tears, collecting in the corner of his eyes. "You really want to leave work?" he asked, his voice quiet.

She nodded. "It just makes sense, Chandler. I mean, I'm going to get ill, and I'd rather use the time with my family and friends than working," she said, smiling, although it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll have more time with you, my parents, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey, Ross, and I can spend more time planning the wedding with Jennifer," she said. "You do still want this wedding, right? Because we don't have to, if you don't want-"

He put a finger to her lips and smiled. "Of course I still want it," he whispered, moving closer. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back, and returned his kiss, short, sweet, and broke away. Then she swallowed, her smile fading. "When are we going to tell the others?"

He looked at her. "I don't know," he said. "Did you want me to do it?" he offered.

She shook her head. "No, no, I think I better," she said. "I feel like I should."

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" he said, glancing at the clock, which read 12:35. "Sorry, today?" he asked.

"Well, I was going to quit tomorrow," she said.

"Oh," he said. "Well, you could do it in a couple of days, I guess," he said, frowning.

She sighed. "I'm a bit scared," she admitted. "I mean, what're they going to say?" she said, leaving the question hanging in the air, ominously watching her. "I'm scared, Chandler," she said, looking down at him which such sad eyes that he let a tear drop, and pulled her close, kissing her hair feverishly, trying to calm both her and himself, as they both wondered about the question that was still hanging over both of them.

"You don't have to take the day off, Chandler."

Monica's insistent voice called to him from the bathroom, where he heard the tap running slowly. He flipped the sausages before him over with the spatula in hand, looking warily at them.

Monica had entrusted him not to burn the breakfast while she brushed her teeth, which she had forgotten in her panic over telling the others.

She had decided to tell them one at a time, in her apartment, while Chandler talked to Rachel in the coffeehouse. Ross was only available for lunch, apparently, while the other two had nothing to do. Monica had been forced to be very sly about finding this out, as they seemed concerned that there was something wrong.

When, in fact, there actually was.

"Yes, I do. I don't want you to be alone, after you… y'know," he called back, scooping the eggs onto a plate. "Eggs are done," he yelled.

"I'll be out in a second," she called back, and he heard the cupboard clanking open. "I'll be fine, Chandler, you really don't have to."

"But I want to," he insisted, grabbing the toast as it popped up and starting to butter it. "It's just one day, Monica, and you need me."

She sighed as she walked out into the kitchen. "Oh, okay," she relented, and he smiled. "But no eavesdropping on me, okay?" she said, drawing out a chair and sitting, looking over at him.

"Deal," he said, throwing the toast onto a plate and scooping up the sausages. "Mushroom?" he offered, pointing at the plate beside him, and she smiled.

She looked at him, her expression soft, and wiped the tears from her eyes. He looked so unspoiled, so innocent, almost childlike, she thought. And she didn't want to ruin that.

But she owed him the truth. She owed that to all of them.

"Joey," she began, and he looked up, his sandwich clasped between his hands.

"Yeah?" he said.

She swallowed. "I have… something to tell you, and it's not… not easy," she said slowly, smiling briefly at his bemused look.

He frowned. "Okay, shoot," he said, putting his sandwich down on its plate.

"I still have cancer," she said, and, before he said anything, she blurted out the rest. "And I'm not getting treated."

He stared at her. "… Why not?" he finally said.

"Because of the baby," she replied, putting her hands on his knee. "The radio waves might kill the baby, and… well, we don't want that to happen," she said.

"So that means that you'll die?" he whispered, eyes wide.

She nodded.

He stared at her, and she saw the intense sorrow in his eyes, tears welling in their deep corners. She let out a strangled moan, hating herself for what she was doing.

"Oh, god, Joey, I'm sorry!" she wailed. "I didn't want this! It's not… it's not fair!" she yelled, looking up at the ceiling as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I just-"

He stood, and pulled her close, bringing her into a hug. "Shh, shh, Monica," he whispered, and she was surprised, alert to the serious but oddly calm edge to his voice. "It'll be okay," he whispered. "It'll be okay."

She let him hold her, his hand softly running over her hair, whispering the words over and over into her ear. She had a feeling he was trying to convince himself as much as her. And she knew that it wasn't going to work.

"Joey," she whispered, and he pulled away, tears still lying in his eyes. "I love you," she whispered, her face stained with tears, and he pulled her into a hug again, echoing her words as she let him hold her tightly.

"Okay, what's happened? Has Chandler left you because he can't handle it? I always knew he'd never be able to stick with you. I said so, but did anyone ever listen? Noooo. Of course not, because I'm-"

"Ross," said Monica, cutting off her brother's rant. "Chandler hasn't left me, okay? But I have… something else to tell you," she said, breathing deeply.

He frowned. "This… isn't good news, is it?" he said. Monica shook her head. "They didn't get rid of the cancer?" he asked, and she shook her head again. "And… you're not going in for treatment because of the baby?" he asked, tears in his eyes. She nodded her head, and burst into silent tears, resting her head against his shoulder. He wiped his years away with the back of his hand before letting her rest her head against him, putting his own head over hers.

"I'm sorry, Ross," she whispered softly, lips brushing against his shirt.

"Shh," he whispered, breaking away so he could look into her eyes. "Monica… you have no idea how much I'm going to miss you," he said, letting the tears fall freely from his eyes. "You've been my sister for so long, and I can't imagine my life without you. But you must never, ever, blame yourself. It's not your fault, and you're not to think that it is, okay?"

She nodded. "I'll miss you too," she whispered, and he nodded, softly kissing her teary cheek.

"I know."

"Phoebe. Phoebe. Earth to Phoebe. Phoebe, please, say something."

Phoebe's gaze was fixed, staring directly at a point somewhere between Monica's eyes, but it almost looked like she was looking through her friend, in a state of total disbelief after what she had just heard.

"Phoebe?" repeated Monica, waving a hand in front of her friends face. "Phoebe," she said, louder.

Phoebe moved suddenly, making Monica jump. "What?" said Phoebe, still looking confused.

Monica sighed. "Did you hear what I said?" she asked.

Phoebe nodded slowly. "You said that you still have cancer, and that… you're not going to have any more treatment because of the baby," she repeated, monotone.

Monica looked at her, waiting. Phoebe didn't say anything more, though, but just clung to Monica, embracing her in a tight hug.

"Phoebe, are you okay with this?" asked Monica, as they drew apart.

"Okay?" Phoebe echoed. "Of course I'm not okay," she said, sadly, and a tear fell. "You're the best friend I've ever had, Monica… and I don't want to lose you," she whispered, wiping her eyes carefully, letting tears fall anyway. "But sweetie… death isn't something to be scared of. And I know that we'll see each other again," she said. "And no matter what, you'll always be here, in our hearts," she said, smiling sadly.

Monica smiled. "You sound like a priest or something," she giggled, her vision blurred by tears.

Phoebe giggled too. "Well, I am very worldly, you know," she said, making Monica laugh again. Phoebe cocked her head. "Oh, Monica," she whispered, as Monica's tears started to flood down her cheeks. She let Monica sob against her shoulder, resting her head against her weeping friends head. "It's okay to cry," she whispered… and Monica did.

"So… how did it go today?"

Monica looked up at Chandler as he shut his book and looked down at her, finally taking the initiative to speak, since they had been quiet since they had eaten.

Monica sniffed and shrugged. "Okay," she said, leaning over to put her own book away.

"Then why did every one of them come down to the coffeehouse with tear stains you could've seen from space?" he asked, and she sighed.

"How do you think it went?" she said, clicking her light off and sinking down under the duvet.

He slid down with her, his bedside lamp shining behind his head so it looked like he was producing the light. "By the looks of them, and by your mood… I'm going to say not very well," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her, which she gratefully let him do, clasping on of his hands against the mattress.

She kissed his knuckle lightly, pulling him closer. "Well, I totally broke down in front of Joey, Ross was his usual suspicious self, and Phoebe froze for about ten minutes before she said anything. And I cried in front of each of them," she said, hearing her voice choking up again. "And here I go again," she sighed, and Chandler felt tears drip onto his hand, rolling onto the mattress like raindrops.

"Shh," he whispered. "It's okay to cry," he said, echoing Phoebe's words. "It's okay," he repeated, softly kissing her ear. "It's okay."

"But it's not okay," she said. "It's not. I'm going to… to die," she choked out, and his breath caught in his throat, "And you all have to watch me," she said, tears rolling quickly down her cheek. "I should just go and live under a rock so you don't have to watch me," she said, her voice filled with guilt.

"Monica," he said firmly, and she looked at him, and saw tears in his eyes too.

"Oh, great, now I've made everyone cry today," she said, wiping her eyes.

"Monica, listen," he said. "You should not feel guilty. It's not your fault. We want you around us as long as we can. We want to be with you until the… the end," he choked. "You are the most special, talented, beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, amazing, intelligent, wonderful women I've ever known," he whispered, and she blushed slightly, eyes still tearful. "And I want to be with you until the very last moment," he said, pressing his lips against hers. "Because I love you. And they do too."

She kissed him back, pulling his body close to hers. "I love you, more than anything, Chandler Bing," she whispered. "And I want to marry you, marry you as soon as I possibly can."

He smiled. "Only a month to go," he whispered. "Can you wait?"

She shook her head, and, as she pulled him closer still, he reached out behind him and flicked the light off, and slid further under the duvet, lips still pressed against hers.