Fallen: Nine

The Dreams That You Dare To Dream

All her life, all she had ever wanted, was a family.

She always considered herself to be a natural mother, a nurturer by nature.

As a child, she often played house—by herself, mostly—but in her imagination, she was always the perfect mother, to three perfect children, and a loving husband by her side.

After college, she was sure it would all come together—that once she found that perfect someone, she would live her happily ever after, in a perfect house, with her perfect family.

How had it all gone so horribly wrong?

How had she ended up here?

She stared blankly at the cold cement wall, her heart hurting and her eyes stinging from unshed tears.

Her perfect family had been torn apart—and at that moment, she had felt herself torn apart as well.

She had met her perfect husband, and though it had taken some time, they eventually had a beautiful little girl of their own.

Her name was Sarah, and she had perfect blonde curls and bright blue eyes.

She was only five years old, when she was taken away.

Since Sarah's death, she had been in a fog—steeped deep inside a darkness that she couldn't explain—couldn't control—couldn't escape.

She wasn't sure what made her do what she did—why she took that little girl.

She looked so much like Sarah.

She knew that she was wrong—she knew that she could hardly afford to take care of herself, much less a small child.

Kevin had walked away after Sarah's death. He'd been driving the car that night, and had never forgiven himself for his mistake.

Neither had she.

Their marriage fell apart. And she was left with nothing.

She wanted the little girl to help make her life better—but the girl was afraid of her, and always wanted her mother.

This was not the future she had envisioned for herself—this was not the life she had imagined.

This was not what dreams were made of.

…..

Joey looked up from the morning paper, as Chandler walked into the kitchen, yawning.

"Morning," Joey said.

"Morning," Chandler mumbled, as he poured a cup of coffee.

"Long night?"

"You could say that, yeah," Chandler sighed, and plopped down into a kitchen chair.

"I heard Jack. Is he okay?"

"I think so, yeah," Chandler sighed, "Sorry if he kept you up."

"Hey, you're the one that looks like hell, man," Joey said, "I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"Uh huh," Chandler eyed Joey then stared down at his coffee. He sighed and looked back up at Joey, tears in his eyes.

"Jack can see her," he stated, matter-of-factly.

"Erica?"

"Yeah," Chandler nodded, "in his dreams."

"Oh my God! Can he see where she is?"

"No…I don't think so," Chandler sighed.

"What are you gonna do? Are you gonna tell the cops about it?"

"About what?" Monica asked, as she entered the kitchen, looking just as exhausted as Chandler.

"Jack's dream," Chandler replied slowly.

"I thought we talked about this last night," Monica said tightly, "It was just a dream."

"I know but—"

"I don't want anyone else involved with this—it's bad enough you had to go and tell Joey!"

"He heard Jack last night!" Chandler argued, "What did you want me to do, lie?"

"Can we just drop it? None of this is gonna help us find her!"

"You guys," Joey said shakily, "Come on—"

"Maybe it will! I still think we should talk to Phoebe about it—she's a twin and she still claims she's psychic—" Chandler started.

"Oh give me a break! You never believed she was 'psychic' before!" Monica yelled.

"But she is a twin!"

"You guys!" Joey's eyes widened, and his heart raced, the way it always had when Monica and Chandler fought in front of him—which wasn't often. But he hated it—he always had.

"What, Joey," Chandler snapped.

"This isn't gonna help anything! And all your yelling is gonna wake up Jack!"

Monica looked at Joey and nodded, then turned to glare at Chandler.

"Fine. Call Phoebe," she dared, then stormed from the kitchen.

Chandler sighed, and buried his head in his hands.

Joey felt his stomach turn, and pushed his coffee cup away from him.

…..

"Thanks for coming over, Pheebs," Chandler smiled and ushered his old friend into the house.

"I told you I would do anything to help," Phoebe smiled and hugged Chandler tightly after he closed the door.

"How are you guys holding up?"

"Not so well," Chandler said softly.

"She'll be okay," Phoebe said, "I can feel it."

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Um, do you want something to drink?"

"No, I'm okay. I ate lunch with Mike and the kids before the dropped me off. Mike figured you wouldn't want a bunch of kids running around making noise…" Phoebe laughed stiffly.

"They could have come over," Chandler led Phoebe into the living room. She paused in the doorway and let out a small gasp.

"What?" Chandler turned to look at her quizzically.

"You—you guys haven't um…" Phoebe gestured to the large Christmas tree and pile of gifts that sat untouched underneath it.

"Oh," Chandler looked down at his hands and shrugged, "We don't…really talk about it…but it's just kind of an unspoken agreement. We're waiting to do it when…" Chandler shrugged.

"When Erica gets back," Phoebe muttered, realizing that Christmas had likely come and gone without notice in the Bing home.

Publicly, at least.

"You said on the phone that Jack had had some dreams?" Phoebe moved into the living room, and sat down on the sofa.

"Yeah," Chandler nodded, clearly relieved by the change in subject, "I was thinking they might be more like visions though. Do you share…anything like that with Ursula?"

"Not anymore," Phoebe sighed, "But when we were kids, we always kind of—knew where the other one was."

"Really?" Chandler smiled slightly.

"Yeah. And this one time, the neighbor's dog bit Ursula, and before she had made a sound, I knew. I felt pain in my arm—and that's where the dog bit her."

"Wow," Chandler replied, "So do you think—"

"I think anything's possible," Phoebe smiled.

"Thanks Phoebe."

"For what?"

"For believing."

Phoebe smiled, and pulled Chandler into a deep hug.

"Hey Phoebe," Monica said quietly, as she entered the living room.

"Hey Mon," Phoebe pulled away from Chandler, and stood to hug Monica.

"Did Chandler talk to you about Jack?"

"Yeah. I was telling him about some things that happened with me and Ursula."

Monica nodded warily, and avoided Chandler's gaze.

"Maybe Jack can help," Phoebe shrugged.

"I don't want to pull him into this," Monica shook her head.

"He's already in it," Phoebe replied softly, "he knows, Monica."

The back door opened, and Joey walked in, Jack ambling behind him.

"Hey Chandler, I think you might have a little ball player on your hands," he smiled, and ruffled his nephew's hair.

"Oh yeah?" Chandler smiled, happy to have some of the tension broken.

"Daddy, is Ewica coming home today?" Jack asked, sending the room back into a tailspin.

Before Chandler could form a reply, the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Monica said, rushing into the kitchen.

Chandler approached Jack slowly, and struggled to keep his voice neutral.

"Son, we don't know—"

"Chandler!" Monica screamed, and Chandler darted into the kitchen, Phoebe and Joey close behind.

"What? What happened?" Chandler replied, his eyes filled with panic.

Monica looked up at her husband, shock lining her worn features. She was clutching the telephone receiver in her hand, and her face was flushed. After what seemed like hours, she spoke, her voice raspy.

"They found her."

She looked up, as the inspector walked into her cell, followed closely by a scrawny public defender.

"Mrs. Flynn, we understand you'd like to make a deal."

"Yes."

"The girl's parents are on their way to pick her up. Is there anything you'd like me to tell them?"

"Tell them…I'm sorry."