AN: Most unfortunately, my eighth grade teachers have decided to bombard me with summer assignments, which means less time writing. Fortunately, I love Mondler and R/R and Joey and Phoebe, so I'm still writing this. But if you're in the middle of a sentence and Chandler suddenly starts talking about the Declaration of Independence, that's just Mondler and history class melding together.

I also owe those wonderful Mondler fans a lot. The last two chapters sucked in the Mondler department; Chapter 5 had no Mon-Chan scenes, and 6 was just plain sad. But you're suffering now… maybe not later. As for stubble vs. bristles argument- ah well, you knew what I meant.

I was in Bermuda for a week on "family vacation"- and didn't have access to the internet:gasp: But I'm back now, and I expect to be done this by the end of the week. :cries: Oh, and I was reading and analyzing the new Harry Potter book, so that was exciting… Snape is good, I tell you!

Mmmm Unbetaed, just thought I'd remind you all. Sorry for mistakes!

Chapter 7

"So…" Chandler walked into the apartment and Monica closed the door, not looking directly at him, "What's… up?"

It sounded distinctly lame and unimpressive; the fact that after nine years, the best he could come up was something a 15-year-old was more likely to say. Shouldn't he have something exciting or interesting to say? Shouldn't they have hugged, or shook hands, or cried? And, why, why was he getting the feeling that she celebrated Thanksgiving every year in much the same way that he did: alone, in a dark room, eating anything but turkey?

"Not…" Monica began, and folded her arms and crossed to the other side of the table, facing Chandler, who was lingering somewhere near the door, "Never mind, that would've sounded stupid… I was going to say 'not much', but that doesn't really fit, does it?"

"Uh… no… probably not," Chandler said uncomfortably. After a moment of so of silence, he began to walk around the apartment. He stopped every once in a while, "It looks pretty much the same."

"New couch."

"The excitement of furniture," Chandler murmured, and stopped dead at the coffee table. "You know how many times I put my feet on there, even though you hated it when we did that?"

Monica shook her head.

Chandler gave her a small smile. "At least a hundred times, and I-" he cut short his statement as he picked up a picture frame. Inside was a photo of a grinning boy, "Your kid?"

Monica nodded and slowly walked over to the living area and leaned over couch to see the picture, "Yeah, that's Daniel. On his seventh birthday."

"He's got your nose," Chandler commented, squinting down the picture.

"My nose?" Monica said, as though she hadn't believed her ears.

"Yeah, yeah, see? Here, it goes up a bit… I even see a little booger-"

"Chandler!" Monica exclaimed in a tone that, to Chandler, sounded so much like it used to before the accident he almost felt as though the past ten years had been a dream. She walked around the couch and stood next to him, snatching the frame out of his hands and staring at it. She frowned, and placed it back on the table.

"You see the booger, don't you?" Chandler said, a grin creeping up on his face. He hadn't felt that grin for a long, long time.

"Do you… do you want something to eat?" Monica asked quietly.

"As long as the pilgrims didn't eat it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rachel came rushing out of the kitchen, annoyed that Monica hadn't picked up her phone. The one time she needed serious advice, her once-best-friend wasn't there. She walked into the hall, where Ross stood just several inches from the door, staring at Joey unbelievably. Joey was looking up at the stairs and her daughter, Phoebe, was looking between the two men, sensing that something was deeply wrong.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked Joey slowly, but it was Phoebe who answered.

"This guy says he's my dad. I said he was," Phoebe added, pointing at Joey.

Rachel's face fell as Ross turned to her. "Can I talk to you?" he asked angrily. She nodded and led him to the kitchen, where he burst out, "You told her Joey was her dad! I can't believe this! She's my-"

"Stop it, Ross!" Rachel interrupted, tears welling up in her eyes once again as she looked up at him and saw how furious he was, "I never told her who her father was, alright! I guess she just assumed… I guess she just thought it was Joey, I mean… he's the one who's been here for us all along, you- you haven't."

She said this in a very small voice and continued to look up at Ross. Expecting him to yell some more, she was surprised when he sighed and looked around distractedly, not quite meeting her eye, "I know… I'm sorry about that."

She was stunned, "About- about what?"

"About not being here," he began, "About leaving you with our kid on your own, about never visiting, or calling, or writing… I'm sorry that everything got so… so screwed up."

A single tear trickled down Rachel's face; quite suddenly, she imagined she was looking a different man than the one she'd thought somewhat bitterly of these past years. He seemed to have genuinely changed and was looking at her in a way she'd never seen him look before; regret of his past actions was written all over his 40-year-old features. Finally, with more tears coming, she was able to get out, "It- it… it took two people… two people to screw it up."

And, in an action of mutual feeling, both moved in towards each other, pulling the other into a hug. Tears fell down both their faces, and Rachel put her face against his chest, wondering what could have gone wrong. After several moments of quiet, Ross murmured into her ear, "We're going to fix this."

Rachel nodded against his chest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A lump was rising in Chandler's throat as he pushed a pea around his plate with his fork. Perhaps it was just being back here, in this apartment; the lump doubled in size and he fought back something that he thought might be sadness mixed with elation- an odd combination, but in this scenario, it seemed to make sense.

Slowly, he looked back up at Monica- who hadn't eaten anything- and then looked back down again, staring at that ever-elusive pea. Very quietly, he asked the question he'd been pondering since he'd begun driving from Philadelphia, "Why did you call me?"

She looked up and didn't answer him for a few moments. Then she finally said, "I don't know."

"You must've had some reason."

"Not really."

"You could have called… Ross."

Monica shook her head, "He went to L.A."

Chandler dropped his fork and it fell with a clatter, but he ignored it; instead, he gaped at Monica and said in a hushed voice, "Ross went… he went to…"

"Yeah," Monica said (in a voice that seemed almost glum), "He went to see Rachel… and Phoebe."

A funny jolt shook Chandler's stomach as he heard the name; he knew it was in reference to Ross and Rachel's daughter, but it still brought back the pain back with an unpleasant bump.

Monica seemed to feel the same way; or at least she sensed Chandler felt uncomfortable because she changed the subject, "So… what have you been up to? I mean, when I talk to Ross, he says you're fine…"

"I don't talk to Ross much," Chandler said quietly, but Monica continued on.

"And then I talk to Rachel, who talks to Joey, obviously, who talks to you… he says you're fine, too, but I guess I just didn't believe them, because I'm not fine, though I- I don't know why you wouldn't be…"

Her head fell into her hands but she made no other noise. He watched her cautiously as he began to answer her question, "I've only got bad news, so you're not alone on the 'not fine' boat…"

She looked up and smiled weakly, "Depressing news… sounds good…"

He gave her a weak smile in return and sighed, "Okay… well, I've been married and divorced twice, and to the same person-"

"That Samantha person?"

Chandler's mouth popped open automatically; how had she known that? "Well… yeah…" he admitted. "But how-?"

"You told me when Rachel had her baby."

"And you…" the words were stuck in his throat; he couldn't believe that she'd remembered what his girlfriend's name had been after nine years, couldn't believe that she would call him, of all people… surely she had new friends, ones that hadn't left her when she'd needed comfort and support the most…

"Tell me more depressing news…" Monica murmured, her eyes now closed.

"I-I have a daughter," he said softly, and suddenly he found himself staring at Monica, taking in for what it seemed the first time, her dark hair… hair so similar to hair of the mother his daughter had drawn in the picture of what she imagined her family would be like…

"W- what's her name?" she asked, her voice becoming quieter and quieter.

"Emily," Chandler answered, his own voice so soft that it was almost non-existent; he was afraid that it might be cracking, as his eyes were unexpectedly welling with tears.

Monica slowly opened her own watery eyes and looked at him, "You- you called her Emily?"

He nodded, unable to say anything else.

"Why… how come…" her voice trailed off, and then stopped completely. She stood up and walked over to the cabinet and silently took out a glass. She walked to the sink, but before she reached it, she began to shake, and she dropped the cup. With a shattering sound, the glass exploded into hundreds of pieces all over the kitchen floor, and then she began to sob.

He hesitated at the table as she shook uncontrollably, tears flowing down her face. Then he stood and slowly walked over to her, the glass cracking under his shoes. For a few seconds, he simply looked down at her- and then his bubble of emotion that had hidden deep inside him since that plane ride back to New York, from London, burst.

His own tears streamed from his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her. A bitter resentment roared like a caged lion let free at long last as he realized he'd never cried for everything that had happened- for Phoebe, for losing Monica to Richard, for separating himself from his friends, for losing Samantha twice, for letting Emily grow up without a real family, whether it be one with her real mother, or a mother that she imagined, with a head of dark hair… he had never cried for all of this and so much more…

He was vaguely aware that Monica's arms had automatically moved around his neck; her head rested on his chest and had pressed her body against his… and suddenly, he felt like they were one person.

"Chandler…" she murmured, "I missed you…"

He pulled her closer and said so quietly that he wasn't even sure if it had been said aloud, "I missed you too."

XXXXXXXXXXX

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air between the two men. Ross wasn't looking directly at Joey; instead, he was looking somewhere past him, out of the window, where cars zoomed by.

Finally, Ross spoke, "Joey?"

"Yeah?"

"Why… why did you marry her?"

Joey had been expecting this question; it would only be natural for Ross to ask. When Rachel had suggested that they talk alone, he had dreading Ross asking this question, but he knew he must give the answer, even if it made Ross hate himself and Joey more, "You said you wanted her to be happy… and you weren't there, when she was holding the baby… and she didn't think she'd be happy with you… so I thought maybe I could make her happy. Then… then my life wouldn't be completely wasted, right? I mean, we all drifted apart after… after the accident… and I wanted you to be happy for Rachel, and I didn't want her to be alone…"

He drifted off and looked away from Ross's piercing stare. He was expecting Ross to yell, to scream at him for taking away Rachel, but instead, Ross merely said, "Oh." He seemed to be considering Joey for a minute, "So… you did it because… because you thought that's what I wanted?"

Joey's mouth opened and then closed, thinking of his answer. This was his one time to receive forgiveness for marrying Rachel; his one chance to talk to Ross, to let him know how sorry he was.

But then, he thought, it was also his one chance to tell the whole truth. "Partly."

"What does that mean?" Ross asked slowly.

"I mean…" Joey paused, and then went on, "I married her because you wanted her to be happy, and she needed support, a friend… but Ross, you just left her on her own-"

"Don't blame that on me, she said she didn't want me!" Ross growled.

"I know," Joey said calmly, and then sighed, "Ross… why didn't you come back before now?"

"She was with you."

Joey shook his head, and suddenly he was out of his seat, "Ross, the only reason she was with me was because you weren't in that damn waiting room!"

"She didn't want me there!" Ross shouted, and found himself jumping to his feet, blood pumping in his ears.

"Damn it, Ross, don't you get it! You gave up so damn quickly that she didn't think you were sincere! She wanted you, why do you think our marriage didn't work out? She wanted Phoebe to grow up with a real family, she wanted the father! That's you!"

"She said she didn't want me that day, while she was waiting! She-she said I wasn't dependable-"

Joey was annoyed and angry that Ross didn't see, didn't understand what Rachel had gone through these past ten years… he'd kept this resentment at his friend inside himself for too long… it had to break through…

"You've been a bastard for, what, nine years? Of course you're not dependable, you left her- the person you fell in love with in high school- with a kid! You can't blame me for marrying her- I've been here, by her side, the WHOLE FRICKING TIME! YOU HAVEN'T! BUT YOU STILL DON'T SEE IT! RACHEL HUGGED YOU WHEN SHE SAW YOU AT THAT DOOR, SHE COULD HAVE SLAMMED IT IN YOUR FACE! SHE'S FORGIVEN YOU!"

Ross hadn't expected this explosion from Joey, who'd stayed remarkably calm before; Ross blinked and looked at the man across from him in confusion, "No… she can't have forgiven me… what I did, it can't be forgiven…"

"That's where you're wrong! Rachel told you she couldn't depend on you- and she couldn't, could she? But Ross, you're here now, and you love her… don't you?" Joey added nervously, his voice quieter, his face pale.

For a full minute, Ross stared him in the eye. Did he love her? Something erupted in his chest as he saw her, years and years ago, breaking up with him when he'd slept with another woman… something stirred in his heart, something that had been forced to keep quiet for years… tears were once again in his dark eyes as Rachel and their daughter entered the room to see what the ruckus was.

Then, as though on orders, he spun away from Joey's gaze and found the concerned-looking Rachel. As he walked forward, he was aware of nothing but her- and scenes flashed before his mind, each reminding him that it was she he had loved for years upon years… their kiss after watching the prom video… their first time having sex… that terrible "let's go on a break" moment, when a chunk of his heart had been ripped out… their night in Greece… he saw her hand smacking away his when she had a contraction….

"Rach…" he murmured, so close to her that he could feel heat radiating off her suddenly extraordinarily still body, "I should never had let go… I should have kept trying… we- we supposed to be… supposed to be…"

Then, in a moment of prefect, mutual understanding, Rachel closed the gap between them.

With every fiber of his being, Ross kissed her back, and promised to himself to never again let of this woman... he was going to be by her side for the rest of their lives…

"We're supposed to be lobsters," he whispered against her lips, and she smiled, knowing that everything, screwed up as it might be, would be all right.

XXXXXXXXX

Awww I hope I wrote that Joey and Ross scene okay, it was kind of forced… but they're not my forte (neither is Ross/Rachel, so baahhh if that was bad as well). Chandler and Monica hmm finally hug…. And no, I'm not done. One more chapter, then, I promise you, you can all stop reading this story! It'll be shorter, but…. Mmmm… yay! Reviewing rocks my socks as much as Lupin does (he's so cuddly!)!