Thanks to everyone who's replied so far, it's really encouraging! I know some of this is confusing, it's going to carry on being confusing! LOL. But I like it that way. This is unlike anything I've ever written before and I just want to go with the flow for a bit.

While You Were Sleeping

Part 3

Sitting on the hard plastic of the hospital Emergency Room, Monica didn't know whether or not to cry. Her entire life had possible been taken away from her in one fail swoop. She was sitting there waiting to be told if her husband, if her friends, had died or not. Waiting to be told if Ross would let her in yet. He wouldn't accept that she knew nothing, she was as upset about IT as he was. That she was the one eaten up with guilt for not being there. For not suffering as they did. For being asleep, warm in her bed when IT happened.

Only she didn't know if she had been.

Stop it.

A shout. A scream. A struggle. A life.

STOP IT!

For the one thing worse than waiting there for the news, for any news, was the thoughts rolling themselves around inside Monica's head. Ever since Ross had looked at her with such hatred, such conviction that it was her, that she was the one who had pulled a gun on all of her friends, was that Monica couldn't be sure that she hadn't. She thought, no she knew, she had been asleep. But she couldn't remember anything from that time. She remembered going into her bedroom and sitting down. And then . . .

Nothing.

Nothing until the moment she woke up, the scream still fresh on her lips. The terror she had felt when she woke, the uneasiness. It all pointed to one thing. And Monica couldn't bear to even think about that. Struggling to regain her already lost composure Monica found herself staring down at her hands. The hands Chandler kissed every morning before he left for work. The hands now caked with his blood. The tears Monica had fought so hard against won as they began to flow. Each one trailing down her already damp cheek before leaving a puddle in the centre of her palms. Monica watched, transfixed, as the drying blood moistened again and began to swim with her tears forming patterns and shapes Monica had never even seen before.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

Monica didn't look up. She didn't want to. If she looked up now she'd take in her surroundings and realise that it was all true, that they were all dead. That she had probably killed them.

STOP IT!

"Miss? Miss I need you to come with me now"

The voice was still speaking in her ear, telling her she needed to go now. It was all alright, she was safe now. Only she wasn't. No one was. Not when she was around. Not when she had just killed everyone she ever cared about.

"Miss, I'm sorry, but you have to come with me now"

Monica looked up and immediately began to sob again. The deep blue eyes of the man reminded her so much of Chandler. The way in which she could loose herself in them, the way she so frequently did. Dissolving into them rapidly she no longer resisted when she took her arm and guided her towards another room, Monica wasn't even sure where this room was, she just wanted to stare into his eyes forever. As he placed her down into what Monica assumed was a sofa a fleeting thought of who might have sat there before her broke her stare. Now sitting opposite the man Monica became aware of his badge, the same badge that had taken her away from her friends. He would know! He'd know where they were; he'd understand that it wasn't her fault. Jumping to her feet Monica began yelling at him; desperate for the answers she knew he held.

"Please! Tell me! I know you know – they were there. I just need to – Please officer!! Please!"

The Officer smiled at Monica faintly, and gestured for her to sit. "I'm sorry Miss, if you want any answers your going to have to calm down and try that again"

Monica sat and tried to breathe, but her eyes again focused on her bloodstained hands. Suddenly she found she didn't need to breathe.

"Are they dead?"

The calmness with which she had asked that astounded even herself. Still staring down at her red hands Monica heard him reply,

"I'm sorry Miss, we did recover four dead bodies from the area"

The tears came again then, thick and fast; dropping onto her upturned palms, piercing each time they fell. Knowing now that this was it. They were all gone, knowing that Ross would tell them all what she feared, Monica didn't even try to stop the army of cries.

Was I sleeping while the others suffered?

Or was I there with them?