"Chandler and Monica! Chandler and Monica!! Oh, my eyes!!!"
-Phoebe, TOW Everyone Finds Out
P.S. Thanks for the reviews!!Ü I really really look forward to them. Imagine, I keep reading them over and over when I get the chance, just to convince myself that they're for me. Lol, I am a sad creature…
xxxxxxx
"You're sure you're okay?
I looked at Monica wearily as she sat by my side while I was lying on my back in the sofa back in the apartment. My first day back in the office had been a disaster. Monica had to come to work, pick me up off the floor, and get me cleaned up before she took me home where I had to drown my migraine in Tylenol. All my co-workers thought I had contracted some sort of disease, my boss was having second thoughts on keeping me and I was hearing voices.
So was I okay?
I didn't think so.
"I'll be fine," I told her, forcing a smile.
Monica sighed heavily and held my hands.
"Chandler, you do know that you can talk to me about anything, right?"
Oh, I knew where this was headed.
"Yeah," I said.
"So what's wrong, baby?" she pleaded quietly, her eyes begging me to tell her what was bothering me so she could fix it and make everything right again.
In normal cases it would work.
That time, I knew it just wouldn't.
I opened my mouth to speak but quickly closed it again.
"I can't," I admitted.
"Why not?" she stroked my hand as she spoke. "Chandler, I know you're hurt about everything that's happened, but it's not only you who's sad and angry. I'm sad too,"
I looked away, not wanting to expand the conversation but Monica, being Monica, pressed on.
"Tell me, Chandler. Talk to me. You need to let it out,"
I knew she meant well, and I loved her for it. I really wanted to tell her about everything but I just couldn't. I felt like a soda bottle that had just been shaken. My feelings were ready to be poured out on the floor but I wasn't quite prepared to clean up after the mess yet.
I didn't say anything and Monica just stayed there until I felt her give my hand a gentle pat.
"You call me if you need anything, okay?" she said.
I nodded, my arms now folded across my chest. I was way tired and certain parts of my body were aching. The migraine was still there, though it wasn't as powerful, and the compress Monica had placed on my head was helping a bit. The only thing I wanted to do was sleep until all the pain and hurt were gone.
"Okay. You get some rest now. I'll wake you up for dinner later,"
Monica kissed me on my forehead and stood up to leave. When she was gone, I settled into the couch and heaved a sigh. The ceiling was my distraction for a minute, but after a while, my attention suddenly moved to another thing.
My hand had been bandaged for over two weeks now. I hadn't messed around with it since everything happened. A while ago, Monica had changed the bandage since the old one was already dirty, with me not watching, of course. I held it slowly up to my face and studied it.
It didn't look any different. All my fingers were still there and they were all trembling. The new bandage was white and clean and held together by some sort of metal thing.
Should I…
Without much thought, my other hand rose up and started to unravel the bandage. I shut my eyes as I felt the gauze slowly fell onto my stomach. When I felt that my hand was finally free, I carefully took a peek at my palm.
A long, sore gash from the center of my pointer finger and middle finger up to near my wrist ran diagonally across my hand like some sort of angry, pink-red river. The very sight scared me to death and I hid my hand almost immediately after I saw the cut. It had the words 'Joey's dead because of you' written all over it.
I shut my eyes and forced myself to sleep. In my mind, all I saw was the cut, which took me back to the sidewalk where I lay as Joey died behind me. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears menacingly. It was like some sort of chant.
Joey's dead, you're not…Joey's dead, you're not…
Joey's dead, you're NOT…
I buried my head under the pillow it'd been resting on to try and drown out the voice. I wriggled and writhed on the sofa like some sort of epileptic, just to try and regain some peace within myself.
You're not…You're not…
You're not…
Xxxxxxx
I was outside. Fall leaves were blowing all over the place and a nice fall wind was breezing past me. I looked down. I was in my outside clothes and was standing on the sidewalk. I looked up and saw another version of myself in the middle of the road. The other Chandler was looking at his watch.
What the—I saw the cab as it came. I tried to yell at the other Chandler to get out of the way, but I couldn't speak. I couldn't even move. My hands were cemented to my sides the same way my feet were stuck to the ground. I was frozen, like I was doomed to watch the scene.
"Chandler! Hey, Chandler, watch out!!"
The yell seemed to echo around the whole area then, before the cab could hit the other Chandler, Joey appeared out of nowhere and shoved him out of the way.
I could see both things happening at once: the other Chandler falling the same way I did, just inches from where I stood, and how Joey stood unmoving from his spot, milliseconds before the cab collided with him with a sickening thud despite the howling screech of the brakes. It didn't seem to slow down and hit Joey with full-force.
The look on his face made a shiver run down my spine.
NO!!! my mind screamed so loudly, my lungs could almost burst. I wanted to stop it, but there was nothing I could do.
I watched as Joey flew up the hood and hit his head on the windshield, breaking the glass with the impact. He fell to the ground as the cab swerved to the side and crashed into a pole. Nothing broke his fall. He landed on broken glass and spilled blood. His blood. The street was a slippery crimson instead of a drab gray.
"NOO!!!" A scream rang through the still air. I saw Rachel rush out of Central Perk, her eyes wide with fright and panic and her hair flying behind her. Ross followed, the expression on his face a mixture of confusion and terror.
"JOEY!!!"
There were no other people around except for the four of us. The wind was still blowing, only it didn't feel as comfortable as it had always had. Every gust blew a chill through my bones.
"Oh my God!! Oh my God!!"
Rachel dropped to her knees by Joey's side and lifted his head onto her lap. Ross froze at the sight, looking nauseous and anxious at the same time. I watched Joey as he fought to breathe, staining the front of Rachel' sweater with his blood. If it had been a normal situation where nobody was hurt, Rachel would have freaked upon seeing her precious clothes soiled. But her attention was solely focused on Joey.
"NO!!"
I saw the other Chandler get on his feet and ran, limping, to where the three of them were. I saw the look on his face and I felt the fear he had in his heart. I saw as he went down on his knees with all the blood and glass everywhere and tried to talk Joey into not giving up. I saw as Joey struggled to speak as well as breathe.
I tried to shut my eyes. I didn't want to see anymore but I still saw everything.
Saw as Joey give a faint smile before he closed his eyes.
Saw as he stopped breathing.
Saw as he died.
Saw as the other Chandler cried.
YOUR FAULT! A voice screamed.
Xxxxxxx
My eyes flew open and I bolted upright on the sofa, gasping and sweating. I was in the apartment's living room, not outside. The lighting was dim and the sound of the shower running was the first thing I heard. I glanced around, making sure I was where I thought I was. The cushions, the coffee table, the magazines…
I buried my head in my hands to calm myself down. I felt like such a mess. I was confused, frightened and guilty…then all of a sudden, I was angry. Angry with myself, angry with Joey, angry at everything. When I looked up, I saw the still-healing wound on my palm, and I felt bitter hatred rise up my throat like poison.
I prodded at the wound with my finger and felt the pain shoot from my hand to the whole of my arm. I prodded it again and again and again…
Sometimes, all you need is a little pain to remind you that you're alive, a small voice inside of me said.
Yeah, I'm alive, all right, I answered, but do I deserve this second life?
No, I didn't think so.
I turned my head and saw a picture of me, Joey and Ross on the coffee table. It had been taken during a fishing trip just last year, with the three of us catching nothing but a lone trout that was so pathetic, we threw it back into the water after it was caught. The picture showed Joey in the middle, a wide smile on his face and with his arms around Ross' and my shoulders. My mouth was open in a laugh and I thought I never looked any happier. I stared at it for a minute, wishing from the bottom of my heart to be back in that moment again.
Then, the wish disappeared and my hand reached out, got the picture and hurled it at the wall. The glass shattered and the frame broke, but I didn't care. It had actually felt good throwing something, and I could feel my anger raring again, like a caged monster within me, roaring to get out.
I heard the shower stop and Monica rushed out almost immediately, dressed only in her bathrobe.
"Chandler!" she cried. I heard the panic in her voice. She stopped running when she saw the mess on the floor and me sitting on the couch, perfectly safe.
"Chandler," she said more gently, approaching me. "Baby, what happened?"
"Nothing," I said, not meeting her eyes. "God…"
I hung my head and saw Monica's hand as she placed it on my knee.
"Don't…" I said, pushing her hand away. I didn't want her to see me. I didn't want her to have anything to do with me.
"Chandler…"
"DON'T," I told her more firmly.
"Chandler, honey…"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" I exclaimed suddenly without thinking. I saw Monica jump back in surprise and immediately, I was sorry I had yelled at her, but I didn't take the words back.
"Just…please…leave me alone," I said more quietly before she could answer. I felt undeserving of Monica. Who was I to have this gorgeous woman as my future wife? I didn't deserve to have children with her, nor be under the same roof. I felt so dirty and Monica…she was perfect. She didn't need a mess like me to weigh her down.
"Excuse me?" she said, raising an eyebrow. She looked pissed. Or a mixture of pissed and pitiful.
"I'll…I'll just go," I said and stood up from the couch, but she pushed me down and I ended up on my butt again.
"No, you don't," she said firmly, the same way her mother would. Then, her voice grew soft. "Baby, what happened?"
She cupped my face in her hands and lifted it up. I didn't fight it. I was tired of fighting everyone else. Even though I'd tried to fight Monica too, it just never worked. She always won. I gave in and let her hold my face, but strained myself not to look at her.
"Honey, look at me," she told me gently. She turned my head towards her direction and was forced to gaze into her eyes: beautifully blue, like an ocean's. The moment I looked, I was lost.
"Honey, what happened?" she asked slowly. "Did…did you have a bad dream or something?"
I could feel the love in her tone. How much she cared for me, and how she wanted to make it all better. Just pure Monica. The Monica I love.
I didn't answer, but Monica pressed on.
"Are you okay? Was it a dream, baby? Are you hurt?" she started studying me. "The glass didn't cut you or anything?"
"Mon…Mon…I'm fine…" I assured her. "I'm okay,"
She nodded and released me. She'd been on the floor, kneeling in front, but then she moved to the coffee table, where she sat down, her hands positioned properly on her lap. I faced another direction.
We sat in silence for several minutes or so, then Monica took action again.
"I'm worried about you, Chandler," she told me. I looked at her.
"I'll be fine…" I said, lying through my teeth.
"No," she said convincingly. "No, you won't be fine. You will never be fine if you just shut yourself out from the rest of the world. From us. From me,"
I knew what she meant and it was true.
"Do you want to talk about it, baby? It will help you a whole lot, I promise. I…I can't stand to see you hurting like this, you know…"
I looked up in time to see two stray tears slide down her cheeks before she hastily brushed them away. At the sight, my anger at everything vanished and all I could see was Monica.
"If you don't want to talk or can't talk now, it's okay…but please, Chandler, please remember that I'm here and…and I'm not going anywhere and I'll always listen to you,"
She held my shoulders as she said the words, and by the ending, pulled me into a hug and kissed my cheek. I didn't move or react the whole time, even when she stood up to leave. But when I heard her picking up the broken glass on the floor, I immediately got up and went over to her.
"That's my fault," I said. "I'll clean it up,"
"No no, it's okay, I'm fine with it," Monica said, managing the glass expertly by picking it off of the floor as if they were raisins. I watched her for a while, noticing that she had a blank expression on her face. She didn't look happy I was there, on the floor near her, but she didn't look disappointed either.
My eyes fell on the picture as Monica collected the frame, and I felt a familiar twinge tug at my heart.
"I'm sorry," I said in a low voice. I deserved Monica an apology after all the stuff I'd pulled. I really felt rotten about the frame.
"Sorry for what?" came the question.
"I didn't mean to break it, you know…it just…happened," I said, fumbling for words to explain my behavior. "I'm sorry…I'll buy you a new one,"
"It's okay honey, I know you didn't mean to,"
She stood up to throw the glass away, leaving the picture on the floor. I heard her get out a trash bag and mess around with junk, then when I heard her coming back to get the rest of the broken glass, I looked at her, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from the picture.
I couldn't take it anymore. I was destroying myself from the inside out.
"Can we…can we talk now?" I asked slowly.
Monica looked surprised.
"What, honey?"
"Can we talk now? I mean…if it's okay…"
Immediately, Monica sat herself down on the floor beside me, leaving the glass unattended for the meantime.
"Sure honey, sure," she said. She looked at me expectantly. "But I wasn't forcing you to talk when I told you all that stuff a while ago."
"No, no, you didn't…I…" my throat constricted. "I just need to tell someone,"
As much as I didn't want to, I needed to. For the sake of my sanity.
"Okay," Monica nodded. "Take your time, baby,"
I didn't want to take my time. If I did, I'd chicken out and eventually never tell her anything. So I turned my mouth loose and let it do the talking. I didn't think. I just talked.
I told Monica everything. How I was blaming myself, that I heard Joey's voice, that I couldn't sleep or eat, that I thought of nothing else but Joey, the dream I had…everything. By the end, I was in tears, and Monica was holding me. I felt like a child again in her arms. I held onto her as if she'd vanish the moment I let her go. And Monica, thank God Monica, was the perfect listener. She didn't say anything the whole time I talked and took everything all in without judgment or advice.
"I…I feel so rotten inside. That I was a lousy friend and he…still he managed to not be like me, not be like stupid Chandler, who cared for nothing and no one aside from himself, to save me from a goddamn cab that should have left tread marks all over my face," I was blubbering all over the place. "I'm not worth saving…he was, and the rest of you guys, but dear God, not me…"
Monica held me tighter and rubbed her back.
"Oh baby," I could hear the tears in her voice, but sensed that she was keeping it all in so she could be strong for me. I wanted to tell her she didn't need to be strong. We could go through it together. No one needed to be the wall. "I wish you'd told me sooner so you didn't have to hurt as much…"
I wished so too, but now that I'd let it all out, I felt extremely lighter. I was glad that I didn't have to hide from her anymore. But there was still one other thing I wanted to discuss…
"Mon," I said, after my tears had calmed down. I'd pulled away and was currently looking hesitantly into her eyes.
"What is it, honey?"
She was beautiful, even in a bathrobe. She looked perfect. I knew what I was going to tell her was going to crush her, but it was absolutely necessary.
"I…I don't think I can push through…with the wedding at the date we planned it was going to be on," I said carefully, making sure I didn't lose eye contact.
There was an uncomfortable second of silence before Monica gave me an assured smile and told me, "Yeah…I've been thinking about that too…"
My thoughts went back to the accident. The plans had been put on halt too since the planner had died in the mishap. Our wedding was up in the air. I wanted to be married, of course, but not that February anymore. I didn't want to be wed still feeling miserable. I wanted it to happen when I was ready to be happy again, to move on and start a new life. It just seemed unfair to both Joey and Monica if I pushed through with the date we'd agreed upon.
"I…I still need time to sort things out," I admitted. "With myself and everything…I just can't be married now…"
Monica nodded understandingly. "We'll have it when we're ready. For now, let's just…let's just heal, okay?"
She pulled me into a hug and I melted in her arms. God, I was the luckiest guy to have her.
"Thank you," I whispered into her ear.
"Just remember that I love you and I don't blame you for anything," she whispered back.
Xxxxxxx
I like the tandem of Monica and Chandler. They just seem to fit together so nicely. I felt sorry for Chandler having to go through his monsters alone so I put Monica in. They're so sweet, aren't they? Aaaaww…Ü More chappies up!