Chapter 3

Accidents Happen

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with friends

It had been the longest, most disturbing night of her adult life, and it had gone by in a hazy flash, like time had taken over and zoomed forward by 6 hours without her noticing.

The phrase "Time is of the essence" ran through her mind over and over again. She had heard it said a million times, but tonight it had extra meaning and significance.

In the short space of 10 minutes she had lost her one and only daughter. The most precious thing in her life had been cruelly snatched away from her, without as much as an explanation to why. Her baby was dead and Phoebe felt like her own soul had died with her daughter, gone to a far off place and never coming back.

Her world had suddenly come crashing down around her, and the ruined remnants lay scattered at her feet in a thousand pieces, like a broken mirror that was beyond repair

"There you go sweetie, you sit yourself down and I'll go get you a nice warm cup of coffee." Monica manoeuvred her zombie-like friend onto the sofa in the apartment she shared with her husband, patting her head and rubbing her newly styled hair like she were a child in pain and in need of comfort.

The others stood by the kitchen table, looking visibly tired and lost. Their eyes rested on the wooden floor beneath themselves, boring holes into it, their minds in a far off place.

What could they possibly say, or do to make things better?

Nothing...and they knew it.

This was a situation nobody had dreamed would ever happen, not even in their worst nightmares had they envisioned a horror like the one they had just lived through

Chandler shifted his legs around in awkward unison. He watched his feet dance around the floor as his mind wandered off to the event which he had witnessed with his own eyes. the bang, followed by a scream and screeching of tyres played over and over in his head, and like a song he hated that was on repeat, he wanted nothing more than for it to stop.

Could it have been prevented? He asked himself the question that pretty soon each one of them would come to ask themselves.

He knew nothing anyone had did or didn't do would have stopped the tragedy from occurring, but still the guilt ate away at him, like maggot devouring a rotten piece of flesh.

Beside him Rachel felt equally as eaten up. As she stood in Monica's living room watching her distraught friend come to terms with the loss of her child all she could think about was her own 5 year old daughter, Emma. Who soon she would be able to go home to, tucking her into bed, and giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead before she fell into a dreamy slumber. But poor Phoebe could no longer do that. Her baby was gone forever, just a distant memory.

A small gust of air shook both from their reveries as the front door quickly flew open and a horrified Ross appeared in their line of vision from the hallway, his face ashen and contorted in sadness.

"I just got your message, I was at the park with..."he stopped himself from saying Emma's name, feeling it wouldn't be appropriate to say it considering the circumstances.

He clocked Phoebe sitting alone silently on the sofa, her gaze transfixed on the blank television screen, which she could see her reflection in. The fear of speaking which had already overcome his friends was now creeping up on him too.

He sidled softly towards them, afraid to make another sound.

"How is she?" he whispered his question quietly-but not quietly enough. Before anyone could answer he heard a venomous voice that he hardly recognised.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Phoebe practically spat out her words in anger.

"Sweetie, we're not talking about you like you're not here, Ross was just concerned about you." Monica stopped what she was doing in the kitchen and hurried towards her friend. She wrapped her arms around her as she spoke, but Phoebe harshly shrugged her away.

"Well there's no need to be! I'm fine, okay! Stop treating me like I'm a kid in need of sympathy, I'm not the one who died!" Her tone was full of hatred, to her friends and to the world, who for so long had treated her badly.

Monica looked awkwardly over at the others. No one knew how to react, or how to comfort their friend who was in obvious despair and denial.

If this was Phoebe's way of coping then they would have to respect that. If she didn't want wrapped in cotton wool then they would leave her alone...until she finally cracked and needed their support, which they knew was inevitable. No one could act this strong and not break done at some point. Not even tough Phoebe who liked everyone to believe she was as hard as stone.

The room grew silent once again, until Phoebe tore herself off of the sofa and walked angrily to the bathroom, where she slammed the door.

"I'm really worried about her," Rachel whispered, scared to be heard by Phoebe even although she was in another room.

"I am too, but I don't think the enormity of this has hit her yet. I think tonight is just the tip of the iceberg...tomorrows gonna be a lot tougher, when what's happened finally sinks in." Monica shook her head, knowing fine well that this was just the start of things to come, and each one of them was going to have to find the strength of 10 armies to get through this.

Just as Ross was about to give his 10 cents worth the phone by his side began to ring and Phoebe emerged from the bathroom. Her presence alone was enough to silence him.

"Hello?" Monica answered it.

"Yes, sure. I'll be right over." She replaced the phone into the handset and looked up at the others who watched her in anticipation.

"That was the hospital. Joey's signed himself out and the nurse wants someone to pick him up as he's still slightly sedated from the medication they gave him when he arrived."

"He shouldn't be leaving! Didn't you see the state he was in when we left him? He needs supervision!" Chandler was positively aghast.

"I know, but its Joey's choice. Its maybe better that he's coming home, that way we can keep an eye on him ourselves." Monica, always the voice of reason, made Chandler change his mind and nod in agreement.

"Pheebs, do you want to come with me? I'm sure Joey would be pleased to see you...I think you both need one another right now, don't you?" Monica edged towards her, but she backed away, like a frightened animal.

"No!" She shook her head vehemently.

"I don't want to see him! He killed our daughter, and I never want to see him again!" She screamed her words so loudly the apartment block must have been able to hear her. Tears fell from her eyes at a rapid pace and she fell to the floor where she had once been standing, hysterically crying she rocked herself back and forth, tearing at her ragged blonde hair.

She meant what she said. As far as she was concerned her fiancé was nothing but a careless murderer...the killer of her child and if she never saw him again it would be too soon.

The impact of her choice was about to change the lives of each friend forever, in a way they could never have imagined possible.