I've been enjoying this fic…I think I'll make more chapters!! Ü Thanks for all the reviews, you guys!

P.S. Sorry for the long wait…been busy…

Xxxxxxx

Thanksgiving dropped by before anyone knew it, even before anyone wanting it to, and the next thing I knew, the apartment was starting to smell like turkey again. It had all been done in a rush, as nobody had remembered on time, and Monica spent an entire day ricocheting off the walls like a stray bullet, struggling to get everything ready.

"I'll help if you want me to," I'd offered once, feeling useless. I was still on leave from work.

"No, no, honey, you just sit down and relax and I'll have all of this done by dinnertime, I promise. I'm okay," she'd told me while bringing the bowl of mashed potatoes to the counter.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, honey, I'm sure,"

I'd shrugged then had gone back to my room, leaving Monica alone to wage war with the turkey. For a long time, I just stared out the window, watching the sky change from blue to pink and orange then purple…thinking how beautiful and peaceful the city looked from where I was. I was miserable as I always am during Thanksgiving, but, due to everything that had happened, I was more miserable than I'd ever been. I guess you could say that I had done a bit better after talking to Monica, but it never really took any of the sadness away.

Thanksgiving.

It had been the holiday that usually screams 'Chandler!' the same way spring cleaning screams 'Monica!'. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the holidays that concerned eating a whole lot of food, sitting around a warm fire and being happy was just hands-down 'Joey!'. Who else would be happy the rest of his day if you just gave him a sandwich made out of leftover turkey and gravy? The things that made Joey happy were usually around and more active during the holidays: food and friends.

It was our first Thanksgiving with just the five of us and there were a lot of unanswered questions in my mind.

"Would the others pretend that nothing was wrong, or would they just eat quietly during the whole dinner and never talk?"

"Were we ready to even celebrate anything?"

"Were we thankful for anything?"

"Was there anything to be thankful for this year?"

"Would we end the holiday after dinner or would the other choose to linger around like they've always done?"

"Who was going to eat all the leftovers?"

The last question made me sigh out loud. In an hour or two, the gang would be here in the apartment. I wondered how everything was going to turn out. If I had a choice, I wouldn't attend the dinner, but it would seem like the lowest honor I could give Joey. I sat, deep in thought about what I was going to do later, if I was going to speak or not.

An idea hit me unconsciously.

Maybe…just maybe…this year, I could try and actually like Thanksgiving.

Less than a second later, I snorted at my own idea. Who was I kidding? It wasn't only the holiday that ruined my family, it would also be the holiday that would remind me of the day I killed my best friend.

What was there to like about Thanksgiving anymore?

Xxxxxxx

"Anyone up for dessert?" Monica asked invitingly after the main course was polished off and everyone was leaning back into their seats to digest everything that was in their stomachs.

"I'll have…some," said Ross carefully, fully aware of how Monica could be if her cooking went to waste. From the look on his face, he was stuffed, but he didn't want his sister's wrath to be released.

"What is it?" asked Phoebe.

"Pumpkin and pecan pie," Monica returned to the table with two pie trays and plopped them in the middle. The smell reached my nostrils and I took the familiar fragrance in. If I were my normal self, I'd have two slices, no matter how stuffed I was. Monica knew this and looked at me.

"You want some, baby?"

"No…no, thanks," I answered quietly.

I was looking at my plate. The whole dinner had been a formal affair. Nobody laughed or smiled long enough and nobody said anything about Joey, though there had been times during the whole thing that there was a lull in the conversation and Rachel had almost blurted out "Joey---" but ended up with a "J—", stopping herself before she could complete his name. Like his name was something not meant to be said, like it was bad, like it was a curse. I felt a little mad at them for pretending, even though I had expected it. We were friends, for God's sakes. If there was something somebody wanted to say, they should say it and we'd go through it together.

Of course, those are only words. Doing them is much more difficult.

Ross, Phoebe and Monica began to eat their portions of pie. Rachel sat quietly in front of me, staring at her wineglass.

"Mon…" Phoebe said after a while, pushing her plate away. "I don't think I can finish this,"

"It's okay, Joey will…" Ross stopped in mid-sentence. I looked at him and saw that he appeared close to tears. "No no, never mind…"

There was silence again, and when the pie was gone and all the leftovers were on the table, we just sat and stared at the lot.

"Okay, is it just me or is no one enjoying this?" said Phoebe quietly after we had waited long enough. I was a little relieved when I heard her speak because if no one had, I was definitely going to crack under the strain.

No one answered and it wasn't surprising. No one wanted to say the wrong thing.

"Honestly, I don't think anyone's ready for any of this," Ross said, almost sounding as if he was talking to himself. "I mean…I know I need a little more time…"

Rachel suddenly burst into tears as she held her wine glass, startling me a little. Instinctively, Ross reached out to comfort her. Rachel accepted his gesture and didn't push him away. In fact, she held on to him even more.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry for crying but…I miss him so much, you know? He…He just…oh, he was the only one who could get me to stop crying and who's gonna do that now?" Rachel wailed, burying her face with her napkin.

I felt as everyone took a careful look at me. I pretended as if I didn't see them.

"It's okay, Rach, it's okay…" Ross said.

I suddenly didn't feel well.

"Look, you guys, I think I'm gonna have to go to bed early or something…I'm a little tired…" I said, standing up. I caught Monica's eye and she gave me this little nod.

I started to walk towards my bedroom when, all of a sudden, Phoebe exclaimed, "Okay, no more of this!"

I stopped then turned around. The others looked as if they wanted to shush her. I opened my mouth to speak but she was already way ahead of me.

"I've had it. I'm tired of being sad!" she cried. "I know, I know this is a tough time for all of us but don't you guys realize that…that our sadness isn't doing anything for Joey? He's weighed down by us and we can never give him peace if we keep feeling sad for him because we shouldn't! We're actually feeling sad for ourselves because we won't be able to see him anymore but we should be happy for him!"

Phoebe's last words sounded so choked.

"He's free, you guys. He's free."

I saw how her eyes shone at the last part and how huge her smile was. I could feel how she was genuinely happy for Joey, and I was happy for her for feeling that way.

At least someone was finally making some real sense.