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That night, I lay on my bed, feeling totally exhausted emotionally and physically but not able to get any sleep.  My mouth was so tired that it even refused to move but my eyes were still wide-open and still very much awake, staring at the ceiling.  I was done thinking.  I'd been thinking the whole time after Mrs. Tribbiani had left (that time I made sure I locked the door) and my brain had just totally knocked itself out from having too many thoughts.  To make matters worse, my stomach was growling at me; I hadn't fed it dinner again and it was partly the reason why I was still awake.  Another reason was that my ankle was throbbing like crazy and I cuoldn't get comfortable with it howling with pain.  The rest of the reasons I didn't know.  How could a person be so drained of energy but still have the enough strength not to sleep?

It was driving me nuts.

I forced myself to get up after an hour of tossing and turning on the bed.  My sheets looked mangled and I wasn't any closer to getting sleep.  Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, I saw that it was a quarter to two: a whole lot of hours after I first went to bed.  Great.  It was a good thing it was a Sunday the next day.

I put on my bathrobe over my undershirt and boxers and hobbled outside to the living room.  My original plan was to feed myself first.  Maybe that way, I'd finally be able to catch some Z's.

I stopped when I lifted my head just as I was halfway across the living room when I saw Ross at the kitchen table, a glass of milk and a plate of cookies in front of him.  Freezing like a rabbit caught in taillights, I debated with myself on whether or not I should make a hasty retreat back to bed.  I really wanted to be alone.  I knew he'd want to talk.  I just wasn't ready for any of it yet.

As I stood there stupidly, Ross looked up at me and froze almost the same way I did, though he took a lot less time to regain his senses. He snapped out of it quickly and opened his mouth to speak.  He was probably as scared of talking to me as I was to talk to him.

"Oh…" he said.  "Hey, Chandler,"

He sounded so normal that you wouldn't think he was as nervous as hell.  I wondered if I should answer him.

"Hey, Ross," I said, unmoving.  I was planning on just saying 'hi' then making it back to my bedroom as soon as possible before he started a conversation.  But then, Ross had other plans.

"You want to eat, man? You didn't eat any dinner.  Monica made some of this great mac n' cheese…"

I held up my hand.  "No, no thanks,"  Mac n' cheese was tempting but…not quite.

I turned to go but Ross tried again.

"How 'bout cookies then? I know you're hungry," he said, holding up the pack of Oreos. "C'mon, Chandler, Mon would kill me if she found out I caught up with you in the middle of the night and didn't get you to eat,"

My stomach growled again.  It wanted Oreos.  It had already seen it and it wasn't going to turn back until it got a share of them.

"Okay," I said after a while, throwing up my hands in defeat.  I figured I could handle Ross.  He was a guy. He understood more of the situation than the girls did.

"Cool," Ross stood up to get me a glass and I sat down across from him.

"Please, man, just do me a favor…let's not talk about…it," I told him as he sat down again.  He looked at me first before he nodded.

"Sure, sure man, nobody's pressuring you to talk about something you don't want to talk about," he told me, as he twisted an Oreo apart and licked the cream.  "We could talk about other stuff…Oreos for instance.  Where'd they get the name 'Oreo'?"

I looked at the Oreo I had in my hand.  What was an 'oreo' anyway before it was a cookie?

"Maybe the 'O's at the start and end of the word are the cookies," I suggested.  "The 're' is probably the cream or something…"

"In what language is 're' 'cream'?" Ross asked curiously.

"German?"

"Nah…"

I popped the cookie into my mouth, not really caring why it was called that.  For a while, Ross and I just sat there, twisting, licking and dunking the Oreos in the milk.  After my fifth one I was starting to feel nauseous from all the sudden chocolate overload that I stopped and just finished with the milk.

"What're you doing here anyway?" I asked Ross as he plowed through his plate of cookies and started clapping his hands together over the table to free it of crumbs.

"I figured you guys could use the company," he said, his mouth full.

"Where're Rach and Pheebs?"

"They're sleeping over at Pheebs' place…Rach…she can't…the apartment…"

Ross stopped midway the sentence.  I didn't mind.  I didn't need him to finish it to know what he meant.  I didn't blame Rach from not wanting to even sleep in the apartment.  I was sure the rest of us wouldn't want to either.

"Your ankle okay?" he asked, maybe to change the subject.

"No," I told him.  "It hurts like hell,"

"Maybe you should put ice on it,"

"The doctor said not to touch it so I'm not going to,"

"Okay, okay,"

There was silence again as I just watched Ross finishing his food.  For some reason, even though I didn't want to, I couldn't stop from thinking about the day of the accident.  The day Joey had died.  Ross had been there, hadn't he? He'd been there with Rachel…I was suddenly curious.  Had he seen what had happened? Had he seen what had really happened? There was this sudden yearning inside of me to know just how stupid I had been.  I hadn't seen the cab coming, but that was because I was looking at the time.  Had I just been walking there when all of a sudden this cab came sweeping past and try to run me over? Or was I just stupid enough not to look both ways before crossing the street?

I knew it was more because of the latter, but I just had to know.  How had it happened?

"Hey, Ross?" I started hesitantly.

"Huh?" He'd been transfixed with his milk as if there was anything about it that was interesting. 

"Do you mind me asking, 'cause I just have to know…"

"What about, man?"

I felt my heart beat faster.  I knew I had told him I didn't want to talk about the accident and I knew I really didn't even want to think about it.  I wasn't sure if I was even ready to mention it in front of the rest of my friends and try to start a conversation about it.  I really really didn't want to but my mouth's always functioned faster than my brain has.

"You know about the accident?"

"Yeah?" Ross straightened up slowly in his chair, trying hard not to look interested but since he's always sucked at pretending, he didn't fool me at all.   

"You were there, right?" I squeezed my fingers nervously under the table.

"Yeah," Ross replied in a softer tone.  He glanced at his feet before he looked at me again and asked, "Why?"

"Did…Did…"

My tongue seemed to catch in my throat and I couldn't breathe again.  Reliving something you would rather live without isn't a walk in the park.  I could barely get the words out and had to practically force myself to form letters.

"Did…you…see what…happened?"

"What, man?"

Damn it, Ross.  I was having enough trouble speaking and he wanted me to repeat it. 

I repeated the question, with a lot of effort involved, and watched as Ross' expression fell.  My heart was beating so hard against my chest I thought it was going to rip through the skin.

"No, Chandler…" he stammered. "I'm sorry, I didn't…it happened too fast…"

I held up my hands to make him stop.  That was enough to answer my question.

"Never mind," I said, forcing a smile towards his direction. "Never mind…"

I was sort of glad he didn't have an answer to my question, but I was frustrated too.  Maybe if I knew what had really gone on that day, my conscience could be calmed, even only for a little while.  I just wanted someone to prove to me that it was my fault.  I couldn't stand it whenever people would come to me and tell me that it wasn't.  It was.  I just had to tell them how it happened to make them change their minds.  I didn't care if they got angry at me.  I did deserve it.  It wasn't as if I didn't.

My foot gave another sharp throb as if it was frustrated too.

"But, Chan, can I tell you something that I do know?" Ross asked in a low voice after some minutes of silence.

I became nervous again. 

"Does it have anything to do with…what happened?" I asked him carefully.  If it did, I wasn't sure if I wanted to, but if I had to, I would.

"No, not really…it's more about…" Ross looked up at me. "Joey,"

My breath caught in my throat at the sound of Joe's name.

"Well…" I really wasn't sure but my head gave a shaky nod anyway.  "Okay…okay…"

Ross drew in a deep breath and released it before he started.  He gave me a look that told me he was somewhat scared of telling me whatever it was that he was going to tell, but he continued anyway.

"Well…" he looked down at his feet again.  "I used to…I used to hate Joey,"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.  Ross, hate Joey? Joey wasn't someone anyone could hate.  He was just too…too Joey.  No one could stand hating him.  I'd hated him once or twice before but it hadn't lasted long.

"Everyone hates someone once in a while, Ross," I said, trying to comfort him as well as myself.  "I'm sure it had only been a little hate…"

"No, no," Ross shook his head.  "It wasn't a little, and it wasn't for a short time either.  I hated him so much I couldn't even stand to see his face.  It was real, pure hate, Chandler,"

I didn't know what to say.  Ross had totally surprised me.  I looked at him and tried to search his face for something that could give him away that he was joking.  Unfortunately, he looked dead serious.

"W-Why would you hate Joe, Ross?" I stuttered.  "Did you and him have a little fight after you met him?"

"No," Ross hung his head.  "Now I'm totally ashamed for this reason…"

"What? Why'd you even try and hate Joey? What did he do?" I was on a roll.  I wasn't going to stop until Ross gave me a good reason.  I was going to defend Joey to the death.

Ross lifted his face and threw me a look I didn't quite interpret.  It was new.  It was like he was a convict admitting some crime.

"I know it was stupid, Chandler but I'm not mad anymore." He said.

"What'd he do?" I asked again.

It was a while before Ross could give me an answer.

"He took my best friend away," he told me before quickly adding, "but that's okay with me now, I mean, I've accepted it already…it wasn't Joey's fault…"

"Whoah," I made him stop, now more confused than ever.  I couldn't believe what he was telling me.  It just wasn't ROSS.

"Ross…" I went through my thoughts quickly and remembered that I was Ross' best friend before I met Joey.  I couldn't believe what I'd done.  "Ross, you know that you were still my best bud even after meeting Joe, right? And…and…a guy can have two best buds…"

"Never mind about that, man, that's unimportant now," Ross told me.  "I just couldn't stand the thought that I'd…I'd hated Joey once…and it was for that reason.  I mean, I totally understood everything…like you hanging out with him more…I'm not some second-grade kid who cries when his best friend gets taken away from him…"

For some reason, I knew he was lying through his teeth.

"Ross, I'm…I'm so so sorry, man…" There didn't seem to be enough words to express how truly sorry I felt.  I would have gladly gone down on my knees if I could.  "Oh God…I've screwed both of you now.  I'm such an ass…"

"No, no, Chandler, forget it.  I've already…I've already put it behind me, you know…hakuna matata…I just feel so rotten about…about hating him…" Ross stuttered.  "I mean, we can't change the past, right?"

I just sat there, my tongue in my throat, unable to speak.  No matter what I'd say, Ross would make it sound as if it was his fault he hated Joey and try and make everything better.  But then he'd only hated Joey because I'd ignored him.  I felt bad that I only hung out more with Joe because he'd been a more fun guy than Ross ever was.  He was cooler.  Compared to him, Ross was such…a dork.

Now I thought otherwise.  Ross wasn't a dork.  He could do stuff Joey and I couldn't and knew stuff Joey and I never would and that's what made him cool.  He was as cool as any of us.

"Tell you what, man," I finally offered.  "I won't hate you if you never forgive me for abandoning you but if you want, can I just treat you to coffee or something to tell you how sorry I am?"

Ross smiled at me.

"You don't have to, Chan.  I mean, we're buds and all and that's all over now…besides, I know you're not ready for anything yet…"

I released a breath.  Thank God for Ross who understood everything.

"But still…when I am ready, just…just lemme take you out okay? Like a beer or something…hang out…" I tried again.  I really wanted to make it up to him.  "As friends and all…"

"You really don't have to…"

"Just say yes, Geller, so I don't kick you in the shins right now with my good foot," I warned.

"Okay, okay, up to you.  But don't go rushing about it…"

"I won't," I told him, standing up.  I wanted to be in perfect condition when he and I could grab a beer and talk again.  I knew it'd be a while, but it wasn't impossible.

My eyes had started to feel heavy finally so I turned to hobble off towards my room.  Ross didn't stop me but halfway, I stopped to turn around.

"Hey, Ross,"

"Yeah?" he was putting the dirty dishes in the sink.

"Thanks," I told him.  "For this,"

"Anytime,"     

xxxxxxx

What is the origin of the Oreo's name? I know I've read about it somewhere before but I just can't remember where…anyway…this was a weird chapter.  Haha.  But I had fun doing it.  More chappies soon!!