AN: Well, here's the next update, folks. Its taken me longer than I wish it had. This chapter is kind of depressing. Ok, it's freaking morose, but it's a necessary evil. I haven't made up my mind 100 percent if this story is going to have a happy ending or not so be forewarned but there will be some happy things in the future. I promise I'll get the others involved soon- there may even be a rather large role for Joey forthcoming but I'll leave you in suspense as to the details. Anyway, thank you for the reviews! Keep it up!

Disclaimer: I don't own them as detailed in my opening chapter

Ross plopped down on the orange couch in the middle of the Central Perk coffee shop and dropped his newspaper on the table, allowing it to flutter noisily as it fell into a slightly disheveled stack on the table's wooden surface. After a few pensive moments, he picked up part of the stack and began thumbing through the gray, inky pages mindlessly, not really looking for anything specific. A part of his mind, one that he was fighting to ignore, wondered if the miles of small black print before him would contain any news regarding her. He quickly dismissed this thought, deciding to focus on an article in the Science section instead, and began reading. He was interrupted only moments later when a man with a receding head of bright blond hair set a cup of coffee down on the table in front of him with a quiet clink. Ross recognized the deliverer immediately, but the friendly gesture was rather unexpected and, moreover, it went against any previous interaction the two men had ever shared. Not really knowing what prompted this random act of kindness, Ross lifted his bloodshot eyes to meet Gunther's, probing for some sort of explanation, verbal or non – either one would do. Coming up empty, Ross decided to take the gesture at face value.

"Umm, thank you Gunther," he said weakly, feeling a bit defeated by the sense that Gunther knew something that he did not.

Gunther stood wordlessly for several moments, surveying the hollow shell of a man that was seated before him. For anyone who knew Ross at all, it was clear from even the smallest glance that he was no longer the man he had been up until a little over a week ago. His hair was disheveled and was getting a little shaggy. He was in need of a haircut but even the short time he normally spent with a comb every morning was more of an indulgence than he'd had the strength or desire to bear. To balance out the overgrowth on the top of half of his head, a thick shadow lurked over the entirety of his jaw line, darkening his already faded features and sharply accenting the apparent signs of stress and fatigue that had firmly taken up residence under his eyes and at the down-turned corners of his mouth. The most telltale sign of the severity of Ross's despair, however, was ironically not among the catalog of symptoms that the coffee shop owner could see; rather, it was what he didn't see that caught his attention the most. It was that pride, that god-damned stubborn pride that seemed to flow so easily through Ross's veins, pour out through his brown eyes, and coat everything they fell upon like sticky syrup. It was gone. And Ross, who had secretly been a fallen legend of sorts in Gunther's eyes having earned and lost and earned again the love of the woman he wanted most and could never have, was suddenly not so intimidating anymore. Suddenly aware that he had spent several silent moments sizing Ross up, Gunther apprehensively decided it was time to speak.

"I'm sorry to hear about Rachel," he said softly. "I know you and I have hardly been best friends but—"

Ross didn't know where this was going but he had a feeling he didn't want to. He decided it would be best to end the conversation before things got any more awkward, if that was possible.

"I…um, appreciate it Gunther," he interjected, cutting off the blond man, "Bu—"

Gunther raised a hand indicating that he was not finished and also asserting (in a rather uncharacteristic way) that he had every intention of completing whatever statement he'd started making. Ross slammed his hands indignantly into his lap. He didn't really care to hear anymore but hadn't the strength to fight it off. Gunther took this action as his cue to continue.

"I just want to ask you. If you go visit her…at her grave, or…wherever, please just t-tell her…" His speech ground to a halt, his composure noticeably slipping for a moment. Ross had been looking down the whole time he was talking, but Gunther could sense the growing impatience emanating from him and his window of opportunity closing. It had to be said. Now.

"Please just tell her….that I say hi."

And that was it. No more words or taciturn glances were exchanged between to the two men. Gunther turned around and the two men were instantly returned to their own separate realms again.

Ross sat eerily still, his countenance representing something just short of dumbstruck,as he felthis heart suddenly grow colder. The grey clouds in his eyes started to churn as the storm within him began to swell to agut wrenching tempest. Whether or not it was intended, Gunther's assault had rattled him, for even the coffee man was able to show some human sentiment towards Rachel and some dignity towards her supposed passing when he still had— no, could not. It made him feel nauseous and inhuman. Worse yet, for the first time he didn't know whether he still believed that she was alive anymore and the thought of conceding her forever to death was far more than he was ready to accept.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

Emma.

She'd been staying with Jack and Judy while Ross worked today and she had been patiently waiting for her mommy to come home for a week now. In truth, he had passed her off a lot since the accident and the realization struck him with the force of a tanker: He was neglecting his own daughter, now, when she needed him most. What the hell kind of father was he? Was he this much of a coward that he would let the burden of his inability to cope fall on the shoulders of his daughter? Their daughter?

And what if he had to tell Emma that mommy wasn't coming back? Would she be able to understand?

Could he even do it?

No….

His heart began exploding, threatening to jump right on to the coffee shop floor. Some unknown force had robbed him of his breath as well and he clawed at the collar of his dress shirt, loosening his tie, and ripping open the collar button.

Beads of sweat had started rolling down Ross's reddening face. He had to leave. Everything was starting to spin and his consciousness threatened to leave him as the world went dim around him intermittently. He shoved his hand in his pocket and with violently trembling hands threw some bills on the table and rushed towards the exit.

He was nearly to the cool evening air when a soft female voice called out to him.

"Ross?"

He whipped his head around, his feet still carrying him towards the exit, searching for the faint and familiar source.

"Ross, watch out!"

The warning came moments too late. There was a loud thud and the sound of cracking glass as Ross walked headfirst into the Central Perk door. Collapsing to the floor, Ross saw a small trickle of blood run between his eyes before a loud buzzing noise filled his ears and the world around him vanished into darkness.