AN: This is just a quick chapter—basically to answer a little question I left hanging in the last chapter. Thank you all for your kind reviews, I truly appreciate it.

Fallen

Six: Lost Soul

She—the girl—she'd dead?"

"I'm afraid so. Sir, we'd like you to come with us—to identify the—to make an identification."

He felt bile rise up in his throat, and his vision grew fuzzy. He could hear voices, but they seemed far away...the tips of his fingers felt cold, then numb.

He shook his head, shook off the shock, and looked up at the men seated before him.

"It…can't be her," he finally rasped, so low the officers almost missed it.

"Sir, if you could come with us—"

"It's not her!" Chandler screamed, and rose to his feet.

"Maybe it isn't" Officer Lewis replied, and stood, "but we need to make sure."

Chandler nodded shortly, but kept his eyes on the ground. The officers led him out of the house, and to a waiting vehicle.

His entire body had gone numb.

It wasn't her, he was sure of it—and yet he couldn't help the nausea—he couldn't stop the fear that was beginning to overwhelm him.

What if it was her? What would they do?

……

"Jack, stay close!" Monica called, as the boy ambled merrily toward the swing set. Monica kept a sharp eye on her son, while trying to hold a conversation with Rachel.

"He's fine, Mon," Rachel said calmly, "Emma and Sam are right there."

"I just—" Monica shook her head and looked down at her hands, "I need to be sure."

"I know," Rachel smiled and took Monica's hand in her own, "I know."

"God, I just want to find her—I need to find her. I feel like I'm losing my mind," Monica laughed harshly, and shook her head, "I don't even know how to explain it."

"I wish there was more we could do, honey," Rachel sighed.

"I know," Monica nodded.

"How are things…with you and Chandler?" Rachel asked tentatively.

Monica sighed deeply, and looked over at Jack, who was now being pushed on the swings by his older cousin. Emma giggled loudly, and pushed him again.

"Emma, not so high, honey!" Rachel yelled, her own fear of the playground device not fully resolved. She turned back to her friend, who was still watching the children blankly. "Mon? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine," Monica smiled sadly.

"But…?"

"But…nothing. We're fine!"

"Mon, you forget how well I know you."

"Rach, can we let it go? I just…I don't know, ya know? Maybe when Erica comes back, everything will get better."

"And maybe it won't. Look, Monica, you guys really need to talk about this."

"No, we need to focus on finding Erica," Monica stood and walked toward the playground, effectively ending the discussion.

….

"Right this way, Mr. Bing," Officer Lewis said gently, as he led Chandler down a flight of stairs, to a darkened corridor underneath the main station. At the end of the corridor was a door, and Officer Lewis knocked twice before swinging it open.

"Gus, this is Chandler Bing," Officer Lewis said as casually as he could, "He needs to…"

"Oh, right. Stacey called down about him. One second," Gus, a heavyweight, balding man in jeans, a white t-shirt and a white lab coat that was clearly too small for him, turned and pulled at a hospital green curtain that was dividing the room in half.

Chandler felt dizzy. His entire body trembled, and his mouth felt dry. He clenched and unclenched his fists rhythmically, trying to regain his composure.

For there, behind the curtain, sat a large, metal table. On top of the table was a white sheet, and underneath the sheet, was clearly the body of a child.

"Mr. Bing, when you're ready, Gus will pull the sheet," Officer Lewis whispered slowly.

White noise filled his ears, and he barely heard what the officer had said. He took a deep breath, and approached the body slowly. Despite his fear, his shock, and his grief, he could not stop staring at the still form before him.

He gave Gus a slight nod, though he wasn't sure he was ready for what lay underneath the sheet. Deep down, he half-hoped that Gus had missed the nod, but as Gus took the top two corners of the sheet between his thumb and forefinger, Chandler realized that there was no going back. He held his breath, as the sheet was pulled.

A startling cry, and Chandler fell to his knees, his body wracked with sobs. Gus looked uncomfortably at Officer Lewis, and the officer shooed him back as he crouched down to comfort the distraught father.

"Sir, I—"

"It's not her," Chandler sobbed, his body trembling with real intensity, "it's not Erica."

"Chandler, we're back," Monica called to an empty house. Jack was sleeping soundly on her shoulder, and she looked around as she carried her son upstairs. "Chandler?"

Where could he be? Monica's mind whirled, as she mechanically changed Jack into his pajamas, and tucked him into bed. She walked back downstairs, and grabbed her purse off of the entryway table, before fumbling through her bag in search of her cell phone. She pulled it out, and noted that the phone had not registered any incoming calls.

The doorbell rang, and Monica moved to answer it, immediately wondering if it was Chandler.

"Hey, we got Chinese, hope that's okay," Rachel smiled, as she, Ross, and the kids walked into the house.

"Hey sis," Ross kissed his sister on the cheek quickly, "where's Chandler?"

"I…I honestly have no idea," Monica shrugged, and peered out onto the darkening horizon before closing the door, "He wasn't here when we got here."

"Maybe he went out to get food," Rachel suggested, "Did you call and tell him that we were gonna come by with dinner?"

"No, I figured it was still early enough…"Monica sighed, "Guess I was wrong."

"I'm sure he's fine, Mon," Ross said.

"Yeah well…he was supposed to stay here in case…in case someone called," Monica replied, a hint of annoyance lining her voice.

"Maybe they did," Rachel said.

"No, he promised he'd call me," Monica shook her head, "He promised…"

A car pulled into the driveway, and the three adults turned toward the living room window.

"It's a police car," Ross said darkly, as Monica moved to open the door.

She watched, as Officer Lewis approached, with Chandler not far behind him.

"Mrs. Bing, I'm glad you're home," the officer said, as Monica ushered them into the house.

"What is it? Is it Erica?"

"No…we had what we thought might be a lead, but…" The officer looked at Chandler, "We asked your husband for some help—"

"Chandler, I wish you would have called me," Monica said crossly, "I told you I wanted to know as soon as—"

"You didn't want to know this," Chandler rasped, and walked slowly to the sofa, where he collapsed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Monica turned and looked up at Officer Lewis.

"We…we found the body of a little girl, in New Jersey," the officer said slowly, "We needed to identify her…so we came here. It…it wasn't your daughter."

"Oh my God," Monica felt her stomach turn, and her hand shot up to cover her mouth.

"Mrs. Bing," Officer Lewis continued in a lower, quieter tone, "Your husband had a very hard time with this—it may be a good idea to keep a close eye on him tonight."

"Thank you, I will," Monica stole a glance at Chandler, who was now sitting up and facing forward. Ross and Rachel were sat nearby, attempting to talk to him.

"Call me, if you need anything," Officer Lewis said, and made his way to the front door.

Monica stood rooted to her spot on the floor for a long minute, after Officer Lewis had left. The information he'd given her was dancing through her head, haunting her.

What if it had been Erica? What would they have done?

Monica turned and walked into the living room, then knelt before Chandler slowly. She turned to look at Ross and Rachel, who were seated across from Chandler, each holding a child on their lap, each looking remarkably uncomfortable.

"Can you guys give us a minute? Um, go ahead and start eating if you want to," Monica whispered.

Ross nodded, and he and Rachel and children made their way into the kitchen. Monica watched them leave, then looked back over at Chandler.

He looked pale and exhausted; as though his soul had been torn from him. Monica took his hands in hers.

"Chandler, I—"

"I'm sorry I didn't call, Mon," Chandler whispered, "I just…"

"Shh, it's okay. It's gonna be okay."

"Is it? That little girl could have easily been our little girl. And the thing is—"

"But it wasn't. Sweetie, she's gonna be okay—"

"All I kept thinking was—that girl…she's somebody's daughter. Somewhere tonight, there's a father who had to tell his wife that their little girl is…I can't imagine…I don't want to—"

Monica pulled herself up to the sofa, and enveloped Chandler in her arms.

"She'll be okay. She has to be."