I'm sorry if my writing keeps making you guys cry, but I'm glad you like it despite that though! Thanks for all the reviews!Ü (btw, thanks to BingIsBack for making it clear where the oreo's name came from! I enjoyed reading it Ü)

Xxxxxxx

My body felt like it was on fire. I couldn't move; it was as if every part of me weighed a thousand pounds heavier. I couldn't open my eyes; my eyelids felt as if they were stuck. I couldn't speak; my mouth was as dry as cotton. I was half-awake, but barely. A haze of events ran through my mind like a dizzying movie: Phoebe finding me in the cemetery, crooning to me the way she would to a child, putting me inside a cab, taking me to the hospital…

Mild hypothermia, I heard them say, What was he doing there anyway?

I heard my friends mumble an incoherent reply.

If this behavior continues, you may have to make him see a psychologist…

"Chandler?" I felt someone's cool hand stroke my forehead. She smelled faintly of lavender and honey. "Honey, are you awake?"

Monica's voice sounded clogged, as if she'd been crying, and her hand was trembling. I wanted to wrap my arms around her. I felt terrible I made her cry, but I couldn't really express my feelings as much as I wanted given my current state.

I fought to move my head and felt the pillow placed beneath it. Where was I?

I forced my eyes to open a crack then had to shut them quick again as a bright white light hit me and sent a sharp pain surging through my head. I felt as if I'd been tackled by a monster truck. I wanted to yell or groan, but all I could manage was a soft moan.

"Honey, you okay?" Monica asked worriedly, clutching my hand. "Ross, could you close the blinds, please? He must've been blinded by the light,"

A couple of snaps were heard. The blinds were closed.

"Honey, can you open your eyes? The light's gone now…" Monica almost pleaded.

I tried again. I succeeded, but I couldn't open my eyes all the way. Through the slits, I saw Monica through a haze. It was as if a fog was in the room. Her eyes were all red and puffy and her hair was in disarray. She looked as if she had just jumped out of bed, but to me, she looked more beautiful than ever. A small rush of ecstasy ran through my veins. I wanted her near me.

"Oh honey, you had us all worried…" she said, her tears apparent on her cheeks, only it was barely noticeable with the presence of her smile. "You've been out for two days,"

Ross stood behind Monica. He raised an arm. "Hey, man," he greeted with a tight toothless smile. "Glad to see you up,"

"You're in the hospital," Monica told me. "Phoebe found you…she called us after she took you here," She stroked my hair with long, cool fingers, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You had me so scared,"

Her blue eyes met mine and I started to utter an apology, but all that came out were dry, hacking coughs. I had to shut my eyes to struggle to breathe. Monica clapped my back to help me. My chest felt as if it was going to explode.

"Here, here, drink a little water…" she put a glass of water to my lips and I let a bit of the liquid into my mouth to wet it. It felt as if someone had a grip on my lungs and wouldn't let go. I couldn't breathe properly with all the coughing. The water didn't do anything to help.

"Breathe baby, come on," Monica urged me. "C'mon, baby…"

I drew in breaths in gasps, and when my lungs decided not to torture me anymore, I collapsed back down on the bed, exhausted by my efforts. I shivered as Monica wiped the thin sheen of sweat that had collected on my face. I felt hot and cold all at the same time. I rolled over to my side and curled into a ball in an attempt to not feel any discomfort. My head hurt, I didn't want to open my eyes anymore. I just wanted to sleep and not wake until I felt better.

"Go to sleep, baby," Monica told me soothingly. "You'll feel better soon…Everything's going to be better tomorrow…"

That was the last thing I heard before I shut down and gave in to the exhaustion that had been plaguing me ever since I first regained my senses.

XXXXXX

The next time I awoke, I felt a little better. My head didn't throb as much as it had the last time I was awake, and now I could open my eyes almost normally, but I guess it was due to it being nighttime and all and the only light in the room was coming from the lamp on the table beside my bed. It gave everything an eerie, yellowish glow, like I was in a dream. A quick glance around with my head from my lying-down position confirmed what I had suspected: No one was in the room with me.

I struggled to pull myself into an upright stance; my back was beginning to hurt from being in an immobile position for so long. I almost regretted doing it: the moment I was back on my ass and leaning against the headboard of the bed, my head began swimming and every single joint in my body started to ache. I stayed still for a minute to let it pass then began to make my way slowly towards the edge of the bed. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I just let myself move. I had a strange longing to be somewhere else, to not be stuck in a bed, to just run and run and run until I pass out.

I shut my eyes as soon as I felt the carpet underneath my feet. My knees shook at my first attempt to stand up, then gave way and sent me back down on the bed. I tightened my grip on the IV stand.

It was too cramped…I had to see the outside. I had to see the city. I had to see the sky.

Joey had loved how New York looked at night.

With a sudden burst of energy, I forced myself to stand and paid no attention to my swaying gaze and buckling knees. I put my weight on the IV stand and relied on it to help me get to the window. Thank God it wasn't that far.

I raised the blinds high enough for me to see. The city was a beautiful sight, with brightly lit lights from Times Square to Broadway, like a giant carnival that never seemed to fall asleep. The traffic was noiseless from where I stood but I was sure that once I opened the window, the loud blaring of horns would make its way to my ears. Everyone rushing to get home. Everyone hurrying to get someplace. Everyone always hustling to do what they think they have to do and go where they think they have to go…

That's why when somebody gets hurt from all the rushing, nobody actually cares. Life goes on, the bastards. They all continue with their miserable lives as if nothing happened…

A small gasp from the door made me turn my head. At first I didn't see who it was since the light from the hallway made the person look like a dark, shapeless form in the doorway. When it spoke, I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to feel happy or uncomfortable.

"My God, Chandler," my mother said as she stepped into the room. She looked alarmingly disheveled, not at all the woman I'm used to seeing. "You look absolutely terrible,"

XXXXXX

I wasn't used to seeing my mother like this: fussing over me, worried. She wasn't like that. She never was. If she had been, even once in her life, felt or acted like a true mother, then I never saw or felt it.

She walked briskly towards me, her hands to her mouth, looking as if she were about to cry. Once she got to me, she kept touching my face, fondling it, as if it was the first time she saw me. Her eyes twinkled, though I didn't know with what. I was almost uncomfortable with her presence.

"What are you doing hear?" I croaked out, my throat so dry I could make it bleed just by talking. I swallowed a wad of saliva to help me form words. It sounded more of an accusation to me than a question, but I didn't beat myself up about it. I was really curious as to why she was there. Did she suddenly realize she was a mother one day and decided to call on me only to decide I wasn't there?

"Honey…" my mother held my face in her hands. A trace of her Chanel perfume caught my nostrils and made me slightly dizzy. Her crimson-painted nails dug gently into my skin. "I came as soon as I heard…Monica was so scared…God forbid, I was terrified…"

"Heard of what?" I asked, my brow furrowing.

"Of you being put in the hospital…"

I felt a mix of anger and sadness course through me the same way electricity would. I tensed and held on to the IV stand tighter than I wanted to hold it.

"So all it takes is me being put in a hospital for you to come?" I said in the angriest tone I could manage. It came out as soft as a whisper but you could hear the fire I was injecting into it. My mother looked alarmed at my behavior. I don't think I'd ever snapped at her before.

"Chandler, you're still sick," she said in a calming tone. "C'mon, I'll help you get back into bed…"

"No, I won't!" I hissed defiantly. "Mother, Joey's dead. He's dead because of me. Because of me, no one will ever see or hear him again. No one will ever talk to him again, nobody in the future will ever know him. He will never get married, he will never have kids and his parents will never see another generation of Tribiannis. That's because of me,"

My anger helped me stay on my feet and forced me to look my mother straight in the eye. I wanted to accuse her of so many things. She, on the other hand, only looked on patiently, though the expression on her face told me that she was shocked by the sudden outburst.

"Didn't you know? Didn't you know that he died?" I asked, a hint of desperation in my voice. Mother looked at me, then held my face again.

"I knew, Chandler, of course I knew…" she started to say. That was all I needed to know. I cut her off before she could finish.

"Then why didn't you come? Didn't you care? Didn't you care for him at all? Didn't you care enough to see how I was doing?"

I said each statement one after another, not able to stop myself. A part of my misery had come from my anger at my mother, who was always so foolishly wrapped up in herself to mind what was happening to me. For once, I had just wanted her to come and be a mother. My mother. Not just Nora Bing.

I calmed down a little after I barricaded her with my questions, then used a softer tone for my next query.

"Did you know," I asked, looking at her face so intently it hurt me to see her standing there, "that Joey's Mom came to me the night he was buried and talked to me?"

What I realized from what I was saying surprised me, and before I could stop myself, I said it out loud.

"I didn't need her there, Mom. I needed you. Where were you? Where were you, Mom?"

Tears stung my eyes when I heard what I said. Never in my life had I admitted that I needed my mother. I always thought I could always survive without either of my parents. Apparently, I can't, as what my unconscious mind bluntly stated.

Crystal tears brimmed Mother's eyes. She gave me a fond expression, as if I were her prized china doll or something.

"I was there…I was always there…You just didn't see me. I watched his funeral…I saw you walk away. I wanted to follow you, darling, but I didn't. I knew you needed your space. I knew you wanted to deal with things alone," She swallowed, then gave me a genuine smile. "I love you Chandler. You're my son. I'd never leave you alone,"

"I wanted you to be there," I admitted almost bitterly. "I waited for you to come. You never came…"

"And I was waiting for you to come looking for me," she pulled me into a hug. "I'm sorry darling, I'm sorry. This is my fault. I should have just acted like a mother and see how you were doing even before Joey's funeral…I was there once during his wake. I hoped to see you, but you weren't there. I figured you were still taking things one at a time, like you always do,"

She kissed me over and over again. For once, I didn't pull her away. My fatigue was gone, and I wept softly, almost in a relieved way, as I took in her scent. It was my Mother's scent, her scent, that I could never find anywhere else. I felt so safe with her there. All of a sudden I had this crazy urge to tell her absolutely everything.

"My poor baby," she rubbed my back. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

"M-Mom, I'll never see him again…" I said shakily. "I can't bring him back…I can't…I can't take that h-he's gone…"

She held me, and even though I was taller than her, I felt her protection over me as if I were a kid again.

"Ssshh…ssshhh…C'mon, let's get you to bed, then we'll talk about it if you like, okay?"

With her to support me, I made it in good time to the bed. Once I was on it, exhaustion crept into me again, slowly but surely. My Mother sat beside the bed and held my hand. Her skin was cool and refreshing.

"I don't want to go through this anymore," I murmured, my eyes half-closed and growing heavier by the minute.

"Darling, you can choose not to be like this," Mother told me as she stroked my hand. "You can choose not to be unhappy,"

"But that's what I feel like I deserve," I said. "I killed him, didn't I? I deserve some kind of punishment…"

I could hear the sickening crunch of Joey's body colliding with the cab in my ears. In my nose and throat I could smell and taste the metallic tang of his blood. The road, black from blood, was a sight I wasn't going to forget anytime soon.

"Honey," Mother started gently, "Joey cared for you as much as you care for him. If he knew…if he knew you were unhappy, you'd be making him suffer even more. I know you don't want that,"

She sounded so motherly that I barely recognized her if she wasn't sitting in front of me.

"What can I do?" I asked in desperation. "I want to move on…I want this to be over…but I can't. It's like…it's like I'm not allowed to, Mom,"

"In your own time, you will. But you have to decide when. You've always been good with these kinds of things, honey. Everything happens for a reason. Don't…don't lock yourself from the outside and the memories. Let them come and let yourself grieve. When you've grieved enough, you'll know,"

I managed to smile. "I didn't know you knew how to say these kinds of things,"

Mother shrugged, smiling slightly. "I'm a writer. I get ideas from real life,"

I felt a little better about the whole situation. "Keep telling me stuff," I urged my mother. I didn't want to accept her ideas since I still felt resentful about the whole accident, but what she was saying had a point all the same. I was growing so tired of being miserable all the time. I wished I were back in the days where I could still laugh and smile freely whenever I wanted without feeling guilty.

"Just think about the happy times. When you happen to think that you'll never have them again, remember that memories aren't meant to be repeated. They're meant to be one-of-a-kind,"

Memories spread through my mind like wildfire.

Ross: I'm sorry I yelled. I want you there, I need you there. Look, what, what can I do that can show you how much, how much I want you to be there.
Joey: You could drink the fat.
Ross: Hi, welcome, to an adult conversation.

Joey: Remember when you where a kid and your Mom would drop you off at the movies with a jar of jam and a little spoon?
Rachel: You're so pretty.

Joey: Alright Ross, look. You're feeling a lot of pain right now. You're angry. You're hurting. Can I tell you what the answer is?
(Ross gestures his consent.)
Joey: Strip joint!

I had to grin at the last memory. I could picture Joey saying the exact same words to me.

God he was fun.

"There, see, you're smiling already," Mother smiled along with me.

"Thanks, Mom," I told her genuinely.

She kissed my hand, then rubbed it to rid it of the lipstick like she always did when I was a kid.

"God has His ways," she said softly.

I had to open my eyes and look at her at her last remark.

"I thought you didn't believe in God," I said, amazed.

"I didn't," she told me. "Then I got a call about my only son being in a hospital so I started praying for the first time in my life to anyone who could hear me. The first one to answer them was God,"

I became curious. "What did you pray for?"

Mother looked at me with a secretive smile playing on her lips. "I just asked him to send down a special angel to help bring my baby boy back. To help him smile,"

I gazed at her in wonder. This didn't seem like my mother. She kissed me again, this time, tears making their way down her cheeks.

"You're very lucky, honey," she said softly, looking at me happily. "You gained a guardian angel of a best friend,"

XXXXX

Phew! That took a while to do! Ü Anyway, as with Joey's Mom, I haven't seen the episode where Chandler's Mom joins in the fun so I don't really know how to write her. I did my best though so I hope you like it! Everyone needs their Mom, even grown kids like Chandler! I got the quotes from the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. show from …there're a lot there and some will make you laugh out loud!Ü Anyway, thanks for all who've reviewed so far! I love reading 'em seriously. It brings me such joy! Hahaha Ü