Disclaimer: I do not own Friends.
I am kind of getting bored with the two stories I've been doing lately. So I am probably not going to be updating any time soon after this. And if I do that means I was in the mood to write, of which I haven't been in lately. Sorry about the inconvenience and thanks for your patience.
Ross stumbled over the rocky stairs that steered him towards his room. He was now more intoxicated then he had any right to be. Everything was going great, but in an ironic twist, was somehow spinning out of control.
At least in his eyes. He needed to think about the big picture. However, considering his current state of mind, that was out of the question.
Finally reaching the steps, gasping for air, Ross made his way over to the villa that contained salvation and depression at the same time.
What would take a sober person a couple of minutes to meet the hotel, was taking Ross three fold. He couldn't manage to put one foot in front of the other without tripping over to the left or the right.
Everything was mushy in his eyes. All the objects swirled together, mixing their features and colors. The area he was crossing held a fountain in the middle, with paths spouting out everywhere, stretching for miles.
He only needed to complete a simple A to B walkway from the top of the steps, past the fountain, into the alley that led to the end of the hotel. But what was his room number.
This wasn't going to be pretty.
Out of nowhere, to his delight, a voice boomed through the light that shined on the fountain.
Rachel.
"Rachel," he said speaking ever so lightly.
"Ross what are you doing out this late?" She stepped past the fountain, meeting Ross at the other end.
"I could be asking you the same question?" Ross retorted, a slight ray of spite lining his words.
Rachel let the comment pass and wrapped her arms around his waist in an effort to stabilize him until she reached his room.
Ross flinched a little, not anticipating the sympathy. He soon relaxed his body and let her guide him towards wherever they were going.
"Ross you're wasted." She said stating the obvious with concern filled in her heart. "Is something wrong?" She hadn't really expected an answer.
"Huh," was all he managed. He slung his arm over her shoulder and with his free hand massaged the bridge of his nose, slowly working his way over to his temples.
"Nothing. Lets just get you home." Rachel cleared the thought from her weary mind and continued toward the room.
"Whatever," Ross mumbled under his breath.
The next morning he woke with a profound headache. This headache completely trumped any previous headache.
"Rough night?" Chandler came out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
"You think." Ross tried to lift himself up to see Chandler, but the pain was too much. He felt the muscles in his arms contract in order to try and hold his body upright. The action was a losing proposition and Ross collapsed back onto the bed.
"Seems you're not going anywhere." Chandler was shuffling through his suitcase looking for something to wear.
"What happened last night? Everything seems so vague." Ross' voice was low and barely audible.
"Well you got drunk my man. Really, really, drunk." He walked over to Ross and handed him two pills and a glass of water.
"Here, I thought you'd need this. It's aspirin."
Ross licked his dry lips and reached for the aspirin and water. He gulped down the pills and emptied the glass.
Once Chandler had exited the bathroom again, he turned his head toward Ross who was holding the glass up, a puppy dog look compiled with a dazed one showing on his face.
Chandler read the respond and quickly filled the glass to its brim. He handed it to Ross with a warning. " I wont be able to fill anymore glasses. Mon and I are going to town to shop." Chandler raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes, showing his dislike for shopping.
"What about Rachel? Is she going?" Ross asked hopeful she'd declined. He knew it was too good to be true.
"No, I don't think so. She wanted to take care of you, apparently." Chandler shrugged, reaching for his wallet and cell phone on the desk by the television.
Ross signed in delight. She was actually choosing to take care of him instead of retreating to shopping. That is the sweetest thing.
He finally cracked a small smile, feeling the headache subside slightly.
"Oh you are just in heaven now. Ross and Rachel sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."
"What are you 7? Give me a break!" Ross threw up his arms and buried his head under his pillow.
"Wittle baby wanna cracker?" Chandler mocked, laughing at his friend.
Ross whipped a pillow, then gave him the finger. He turned back around and sunk his head into the many pillows scattered on the bed.
Chandler was going to throw the pillow back but thought against it. "We could do this all day and I have to go. Rachel should be over shortly so I'd take a shower..." Chandler scweezed his nostrils together jokingly, waving his hand in the air, "if you can manage it." He said chuckling.
"Get outa here." Ross tossed a pillow at the door, but was too late, Chandler had already slipped out.
After a few minutes of thinking about nothing Ross again felt his throat yearn for some kind of liquid substance.
He practically crawled into the bathroom, trying desperately to reach the sink. As soon as he had reached his destination he held on for dear life. His whole body was now aching. Carefully filling the glass with cold water he relaxed his arms and sat down on the toilet.
He noticed the two imprints from his hands still clear on the sides of the sink.
Without warning Ross' stomach contracted and he felt something crawling up his throat. Quickly sliding off the toilet lid, he swiftly lifted it up and proceeded to clean out his insides. The act of puking made him even more weak and in turn only allowed him to lay his head sulkingy on the cold material.
After successfully taking a descent shower he continued to get himself dressed. He found this to be an even harder task. Searching for anything to wear in his duffle bag, he finally found a blue Hawaiian shirt and whitish, orangish, board shorts. He slipped on the clothing, falling while trying to put his left leg in the pant hole.
Half dressed, he saw a shadow, considering the lights were still off, of a woman standing before him.
"Having some trouble." She said, her hands steadied on her hips.
"No, no. This is how a normally wear shorts. It's the new thing." Ross said sarcastically.
"Sorry, let me help." Before she could reach down to help, Ross forced the shorts on, sighing in relief that Rachel hadn't helped him.
"You didn't go shopping." Ross stood to his knees and then willed himself to his feet, trying to show his absolute strength of being. He couldn't allow Rachel to see him in this position.
"Nah. I figured you needed someone to help you out. You didn't look so good last night." She strayed over to the blinds and pulled them open cautiously. "You need some light in here."
Ross groaned at the gesture and climbed back into his bed.
"Oh no you don't. It's noon already, you're getting outside." She moved toward the edge of the bed and pulled the covers off of Ross.
"No, I have a headache." Ross retrieved the covers and tightened them around his body.
"Come on Ross, you need to get up. Enjoy the day. It's not like we're going to do anything major. Just chill out at the beach or something." She offered her complete sympathy.
Ross uncovered himself and looked up at Rachel. "Do you even realize how much a hangover hurts. It sucks. Have you ever been drunk?"
"Yes. And yes I know how a hangover fells. It does suck. But it wont hurt you to get out and see the sun a little. It might do you good." She wasn't going to let Ross out of this one.
Ross looked deeply into her eyes. Those green, bluish eyes he could never say no to. Why did he have such strong feelings for her. Why?
There were a million reasons.
To Be Continued...
Finally some Ross and Rachel interaction, right? The next chapter will be all them. And some other characters could possibly show up. Please review like always. Thanks.
