Okay, well, it nearly killed me, but i got this chapter written in record time! It is now 1 14 in the morning and i have to get up really early to get ready to go away...please enjoy this chapter...i NEARLY DIED!

hehe thank you for all the wonderful reviews and sorry to leave you all hanging like this...i will update hopefully in a week!

Oh, i dont own them yada yada, but Matt Perry IS coming to stay at dads with me! WOOHOO! See ya all in a week!


Chandler entered Monica and Rachel's apartment, hoping to find some peace and quiet there. Of course, had he gotten his way, that would have been breaking the tradition that had apparently been set.

"Hi Chandler!" Rachel greeted him warmly from the couch. Chandler groaned inwardly. Monica, he could almost handle. She didn't know about the incident.

Rachel knew full too well what had happened. He watched as her eyes did an automatic sweep of his body, resting on his face. She was obviously still worried about him.

"Hey Rachel," Chandler greeted back, somewhat grudgingly. He couldn't just leave now though. He didn't want Rachel to think he was avoiding her. That would only serve to make her more worried. Chandler sighed quietly as he made his way over to her, trying to act as normal as possible. "What's up?"

"Well, I decided that I was going to read the newspaper today," she said proudly. Chandler smirked as he sat down next to her. Normal Chandler would make a joke at her expense. He needed to be normal Chandler today.

"Wow, that makes this the second time in, what, forever?" he joked. Lame, but he was trying. Rachel smacked him playfully, a smile spreading across her features.

"I read the paper all the time!" she insisted.

"Yeah, for the Entertainment section," Chandler retorted. An improvement, he thought, as Rachel pouted.

"And the fashion section," she reminded him. Chandler laughed, his first real laugh in a while. Rachel smiled, studying him closely.

"What?" he asked after a few moments. Rachel's smile grew wider as she looked back down at the newspaper.

"Nothing. It's just nice to hear you laugh," she commented quietly. "I haven't heard it for a while." Chandler smiled grimly. "So how are things?"

Back off Joey

Things are fine," Chandler answered quickly; too quickly it would seem. Rachel looked up, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh really?" she mused. "No more horrific dreams then?"

Chandler paused, considering how to answer. He could lie, but Rachel would most likely pick up on it, and chastise him. Or he could tell the truth, and most likely end up confessing his darkest secrets to a shrink. Neither options appealed to him, and as it turned out, he didn't have to choose. Rachel's eyes narrowed further at his ongoing silence, not needing an answer.

"Chandler, I am really worried about you," she said softly.

"I'm fine," there was his mantra once again.

"No, you're not."

"It's just a few stupid dreams," Chandler muttered. Rachel sighed, taking his hand.

"They're obviously not stupid if they are causing you this much trouble!" she insisted. Chandler gnawed on his lip, unsure of how to answer that.

"I'm not going to a shrink," he answered finally, slipping his hand out of Rachel's grasp. She frowned.

"I'm not saying you should," she murmured.

"Then tell me what you are saying, because I have no idea!" Chandler exclaimed, knowing full well what Rachel was trying to say. She sighed once again, and retook his hand.

"Sweetie, I just think you should talk to someone. Not necessarily a professional. Maybe Joey, or me. We would listen," she insisted. Chandler stared at her for a while, then looked away, tears springing to his eyes.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said finally. "End of story." Rachel set her jaw stubbornly and looked as if she was going to pursue the subject. Instead, she picked the newspaper up and once again started leafing through it.

"Okay then," she said quietly. "But we are here. Remember that." Chandler nodded miserably, studying the paper in her hand. A frown covered his face and he quickly snatched the paper from Rachel.

Rachel opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when she saw the look of pure terror on Chandler's face.

"Oh my god," he whispered, staring down at the article. Nicole Atkins, age 28. He body had been found the day before. She had been stabbed repeatedly. Chandler stared at the accompanying photo in shock. His Nicole, the Nicole from the dream, stared back at him, her pretty face framed by golden curls.

"Chandler?" Rachel had been repeatedly calling his name, sounding more and more panicked each time round. He turned to face her, his expression blank. All he could think was that it had really been a deadline. Him dreaming Nicole's death had portrayed his failure.

"Chandler? Oh god, what's wrong?" Rachel asked, tears shining in her eyes.

"I have to go," Chandler said in monotone, standing up. Rachel stood also, the tears spilling over her cheeks. She watched his walk away for just a moment, before rushing over and grabbing his arm. He turned around at her persistence, the blank look still encompassing his face.

"Chandler, please don't walk away from me," Rachel begged, her voice on the borderline of hysterics.

'Don't walk away from me,' the man hissed

"Get away from me!" Chandler shrieked, batting Rachel's hand away. She flinched back as if he had slapped her, a terrified look on her face.

"Stay away," Chandler whispered weakly, clutching at his head. This was all too much. How could Nicole be real? He really was losing his mind.

"Chandler?" Rachel pleaded, grabbing his arm. Chandler had never seen anyone as scared as Rachel was at that moment. Well, with the exception of Nicole.

"Oh god," he moaned in anguish. This was all too much.

"Chandler? Oh my god!" Rachel cried frantically. She had no idea what to do.

"Please help me," Chandler whispered.

And then everything went black.