Okay, first off, I feel i must warn people: the story is getting progressively darker as it goes along, and there more than likely will not be a happy ending.Please dont stop reading because of that! And, i must tell you that we are getting close to the end...well, okay, there still is about 6 chapter's left (maybe more, maybe less) but we are getting closer! So bare with me! oh, and i keep on forgetting to do this! I must make mention of the story title because i did not make it up. It is the name of one of the songs off the new Backstreet Boys CD, and i didnt chose it because of the whole 'climbing the walls with insanity', that came in later when i decided to incorpirate the name into the story..i chose it because i was listening to the song at the time hehe.

Thankyou for reading, and please continue..and dont forget to review! Oh, and this will be my last chapter for the next few days (I'm going away...again) but i promise that a new chapter will be up by wednesday or Thursday! if not, ya'all can kill me! Toodles!

I don't own friends/characters/actors, but Matt Perry is coming with me and my friend darny (yes, darny2000, the author of 'incomplete' is my best friend) on our trip!


"No!"

The cry escaped Chandler's lips and he lunged forward. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. "Rachel! Shit! Rachel!" She couldn't be dead.

A door slammed in the other room and keys were set down. He was vaguely aware of a voice calling his name, but payed no attention to it. "Rach? Baby?" he whimpered, grabbing her arm with a trembling hand. Her skin was ice-cold. Chandler let out a tortured cry. She was dead.

"No," he sobbed. "Rachel…" Chandler reached into the bath and wrapped his arms around Rachel's cold, naked, wet body, pulling her close. He stroked her damp hair; his sob's harsh and agonising. She was dead. She was gone. He had let her die.

"Chandler?" there was a horrified gasp. "Oh my god!" And suddenly there were hands grabbing at him; pulling him away from her.

"No!" Chandler screamed, batting at the hands. He pulled Rachel's body closer. "No! I can't leave her! I can't! I won't!"

"Chandler!"

His head was roughly turned and Chandler found himself blinking in surprise.

"Rach?" he whispered.

Rachel nodded, stroking his hair. Her gentle touch was a stark contrast to the harsh way she had turned his head just seconds ago. Chandler gaped at her for a moment, then slowly turned to face the bath once more. It was empty. No blood. No body. No dead Rachel. Empty.

Chandler let out a shuddering gasp. She was alive. She wasn't dead. She was alive. He lunged forward, retching violently. Rachel rubbed his back as he vomited, whispering soothing words in his ear. She had no idea what was going on.

After her crying spell on the floor, Rachel had headed into the bathroom and washed her face, attempting to make herself look presentable. She had also changed; leaving her dirty clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor. She had then taken a cab down to Dr. Mackenzie's office and had a chat with him, then booked an appointment for Chandler the following day. She could have done that all over to phone but the need to get out of the apartment was strong.

Dr. Mackenzie and she had discussed Chandler's behaviour and what they thought was best for him. The psychiatrist had agreed that it seemed too early to have Chandler committed, and Rachel had told him of her fears that she was going to lose him. Alongside Chandler's appointment, she had booked one for herself. Rachel had never gone to a shrink before, but she needed to talk to a professional about this, and had run out of time during her impromptu session. She had returned, feeling a bit better but Chandler's distressed cries had made her heart stop. She had rushed to the bathroom and found him leaning over the bathtub, hysterically crying; his arms wrapped around thin air. The look of sheer disbelief his face had held when he had seen her stuck in her mind. It was as if he expected never to see her again.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Chandler leaned back into Rachel's body –her warm alive body- his own body trembling from shock, exhaustion and the hysterical sobs that still left his mouth. No. He wasn't meant to be crying. He couldn't, wouldn-

"Its okay baby," Rachel soothed, stroking his sweat-soaked hair. Chandler shook his head, clinging to her shirt. "It's okay. You're okay sweetie."

"N-No," Chandler whimpered, shaking his head again. Rachel kissed his brow, pulling him closer. Chandler glanced at her wrists and gasped. They were slit and bleeding. He quickly looked up and let out a cry. Rachel's face was sliced open, blood dripping down her cheeks as she smiled down at him. A couple of teeth were missing and Chandler thought he could see bone through the wounds. He whimpered once more and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he opened them, Rachel's face would be back to normal. He opened his eyes slowly and took in a shuddering breath. His hopes had come true. Rachel was back to her normal self, her face unmarred and beautiful.

"Oh god," he moaned, the tears coming once more; stronger this time. He wasn't supposed to cry. He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't.

But he was.


Joey studied Chandler's face dejectedly. He had returned from his audition to find Chandler's bed empty. Curiously, he had wandered next door, heading into the bathroom when he heard the choked sobs coming from there. He had found Chandler and Rachel huddled together on the floor, Chandler holding Rachel as if he would die if he let go. The smell of vomit lingered in the air and Rachel had looked up at him helplessly. He had bent down, calling Chandler's name softly. His best friend had turned to him and let out a distressed cry, burying his face once more in Rachel's neck. Joey had been dismayed; Chandler had seemed terrified of him. He had called out Chandler's name once more, and Chandler had shaken his head, muttering his newfound mantra.

I'm not going to cry. I can't, I won't, I mustn't cry

Joey swallowed hard, those words scaring him more than anything else. He had glanced at Rachel once more, then leaned over and pulled Chandler into his arms. Chandler had been unwilling, fighting him, but he had given up after a couple of minutes, going limp. Joey had picked him up and carried him to Monica's room, laying him on the bed. Chandler was taller –but slimmer - then Joey, but Joey was quite strong, so carrying him was effortless.

Rachel had cleaned up the bathroom, while Joey sat with their friend. He knew that Rachel had just wanted somewhere to cry in private, so he waited patiently for her return.

"Joe." Chandler's croaky voice caused Joey to jump in surprise.

"Yeah Chan?" he asked softly. Chandler swallowed, glancing at Joey dejectedly. He flinched slightly, causing Joey to frown. He kept doing that, every time he looked at Joey's face.

"D-Did you get the part?"

"No," Joey answered softly. "They were looking for someone taller." Chandler nodded, looking away. His face relaxed slightly, causing Joey's frown to deepen.

"Do….do you see something?" he asked timidly. Chandler glanced at him once more; another flinch. "On my face?"

Chandler shook his head, still looking troubled. To him, Joey's face was sliced open, just as Rachel's had been earlier. Only with Joey, it was a constant thing.

"Are you sure?" Joey pressed. Chandler bit his lip, watching the blood drip from Joey's face onto the bedspread. The blood that wasn't there.

"Yes," Chandler whispered, quickly turning away.

"What about in the bathroom?" Joey continued. "You saw something in the bath, didn't you?"

"No."

"Yes you did," Joey insisted tenderly. "No one freaks out like that without a reason."

"I'm not seeing things," Chandler lied, then let out one of his little giggles. It was strange to claim that while Joey's face said otherwise.

"Are you sure?"

"What will happen if I am seeing things?" Chandler asked in a small voice. Joey leaned forward and placed his hand on Chandler's arm.

"I won't let anyone take you away from us," he said defiantly. Chandler swallowed and nodded.

"I-I saw something," he stammered.

"In the bath?"

"Yes."

"What did you see?" Joey asked gently. Chandler shook his head.

"I don't want to say," he whispered.

"Chandler, if you tell me, I might be able to help." Chandler shook his head once more. "Chandler-"

"I can't, I won't," he insisted.

"Chandler, please!"

"I saw Rachel!" Chandler shrieked suddenly, then clamped a hand over his mouth. Joey looked taken aback.

"You saw Rachel?"

"No, no, no," Chandler whimpered, shaking his head.

"Yes you did, you just said you did," Joey said firmly. Chandler grimaced, looking at Joey's bloody face.

"I-I saw…I saw," he whispered. "I saw Rachel."

"What was she doing?" Joey asked gently. Chandler shook his head.

"I-I can't."

"Chandler-"

"I can't!" Chandler shrieked.

"Whatever you saw; it's not real," Joey said softly.

"I know," Chandler whispered.

"Then why can't you tell me?" Chandler looked at Joey's disfigured face.

"Cause it could be."

"It won't be. Trust me," Joey said soothingly.

"The dreams were real."

"I know Chan. But this won't be." Joey sounded so confident that Chandler decided to believe him. He had to; other wise Rachel was going to die.

"She was dead," Chandler whispered. "The bath was full and the water was mixed with her blood…I thought…I thought it was-"

"Real?" Joey interrupted calmly, although his face told a different story. Underneath the gashes and blood he had a horrified look on his face.

"Yes…I thought I had lost her…and then she was behind me, pulling me back and then the bath was empty." Chandler's voice was strained and unnatural.

"Chandler-"

"What if it is real, Joey? What if Rachel dies? Or if you-" Chandler stopped abruptly, anguish covering his face.

"Me? Why would something happen to me?" Joey asked. Chandler shook his head. "Chan?" Joey suddenly remembered something and grabbed Chandler's arm once more. "What do you see on my face Chan?"

"Nothing," Chandler muttered. It was Joey's turn to shake his head.

"Chandler, what do you see?" Chandler sighed, scrubbing his face with his still-tender hands.

"Your…your face is sliced open…I can see the bone, and it's dripping blood onto the covers…but there is nothing there, is there Joey?"

"No Chandler, there isn't," Joey whispered, a distressed look on his face.

"I saw the same on Rachel…the real Rachel, just before you came in…hers was only there for a second, but yours has been like that the entire time…its…I don't know." Chandler paused, glancing down at his hands. "What do you think it means Joe?"

"I don't know Chan," Joey said softly.

"D-Do you think that something is going to happen to you and Rach?"

"I don't know," Joey repeated. Chandler nodded, looking away.

"It's…its hard for me to look at you," he whispered.

"Do you want me to go?" Chandler shook his head.

"No, please don't leave me." He reached down and grasped Joey's hand. "I'm scared Joe."

"I know buddy; I know."

"I-I…"

"What, Chan?"

"I think I'm losing my mind," Chandler whispered. Joey bit his lip, and nodded miserably. "Are they gonna take me away?"

"I told you before; I wont let anybody take you away," Joey said firmly.

"But what if I stay and something happens to you guys?" Chandler asked. Joey didn't answer.

"Hey guys," Rachel said softly as she entered the room. She had spent the last ten minutes in the bathroom, crying, but you would never be able to tell from her face. Chandler glanced over at her, and breathed a sigh of relief. Her skin was smooth and intact. "How are you feeling sweetie?" Chandler glanced at Joey and was surprised to find his skin smooth as well.

"Better…now," he whispered, squeezing Joey's hand before releasing it. Joey smiled and stood up. "Where are you going?"

"I'll leave you guys to it," Joey said softly. Chandler shook his head.

"Don't go," he insisted. Joey sat back down, patting his arm gently.

"D-Do you want me to go Chandler?" Rachel asked apprehensively. Chandler paused. He kept seeing her body, naked and cold, lying in the bath. Rachel nodded, a shattered look on her face as she backed away from the bed. "Okay," she whispered.

"No!" Chandler exclaimed. "Don't go." Rachel smiled shakily, and walked towards him. She took a seat on the edge of the bed and took his hand.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked softly. Chandler sighed.

"I really don't know," he murmured, tears springing to his eyes. He wiped at them, repeating his mantra in his head.

He was not going to cry.


Chandler paced his and Joey's living room tensely, his mind going at a hundred miles a second. He had left apartment 20 half an hour ago, telling his two worried friends that he needed some time alone. They had reluctantly let him go, but Chandler was sure that someone would check on him soon enough. He had already heard the door across the hallway open and close once, but he had a feeling that it had been Phoebe. The image of Rachel, lying dead in the bath, was playing in his mind over and over again, interrupted only by the image of Joey's battered face. Chandler squeezed his eyes shut, covering his face with his hands. He breathed deeply and let his hands drop. What did it mean? Why the hell had he seen those things? Was something going to happen to Rachel and Joey? He shook his head, trying to make sense of it all.

If something was going to happen to them, then why hadn't he seen it in a dream, like with Nicole and Sarah? Maybe nothing was going to happen; maybe he was just being-

"Insane?" Chandler whispered, glancing towards the closed front door. He had figured that much already. When he had started having these dreams he had told himself 'Crazy people don't know they're going crazy. They think they're getting saner'. That had reassured him at the time, but Chandler now knew it was bullshit. He was losing his mind, he knew it. That stupid goddamn saying or quote that he had stolen from a movie or TV show was wrong. He didn't think he was getting saner, but he was certain that he was going crazy. He was seeing things for god sakes!

Maybe that had something to do with the brain tumour; some symptoms do include hallucinations, but Chandler knew that the brain tumour was not the cause. He had flipped out; lost his mind; gone nuts, crazy, loony, insane. Put it any way you want, it all meant the same thing. Chandler was at the top of the wall now; he had finished climbing and now he had to find a way to get down.

Chandler let out a short giggle, walking to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, and then closed it quickly with a gasp.

No

He hadn't seen that; it wasn't real. Chandler took a few deep breaths, and then opened the door once more. The blood was still dripping from the shelves. Chandler swallowed, his stomach twisting. Why was he seeing that? What could he possibly figure out from some random dripping blood?

Chandler closed the door gently, and leant against it. Maybe he was meant to see dripping blood somewhere? He already had; dripping from Joey's face and Rachel's wrists. Chandler trembled, feeling nauseous. They were going to die. He was sure of it now. They were going to die. And it was all because of him.

He was a bad luck charm. Bad luck had always followed him in the past, causing a wave of destruction in its path. Even now, with him wearing Rachel's good luck charm, it still followed. Rachel and Joey were going to die, simply because they knew him. Chandler let out another giggle.

If he stayed near them, they were going to die. Ross, Monica, Phoebe as well. They would all die, because soon he would see them in his dreams, and just like Nicole and Sarah, he would not be able to save him. Tears sprung to his eyes and Chandler swiped at them angrily.

"I am not going to cry," he snapped. "I can't, I won't!"

He was a bad luck charm, and he couldn't stay with his friends. Not anymore. He was killing them. Not only that, while he was there, he was causing them pain. They worried about him constantly, when they should have been living. He was killing them, physically and spiritually. Chandler set his jaw and walked over to his bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. He walked over to the cupboard and opened the door.

Chandler wasn't sure why he had put the knife in there; he had acted on impulse. Making his way to the front door- on his way to see Rachel earlier- he had grabbed the knife and slid it into his cupboard; hiding it between two magazines. He hadn't known why then, but he realised now.

His friends would die if he stayed around. He couldn't let that happen.

Chandler grasped the knife gently, and pulled it out, making sure not to disturb the magazines. He stared at the blade, watching the light dance off of it. He had to do this. He was hurting his friends. He had to do this so they could continue with their lives. Not having to worry about him all the time. Not having to die. Tears stung at Chandler's eyes as he pulled back his sleeves.

"I am not going to cry," he breathed, resting the blade against his wrist. "I can't, I won't, I mustn't."

He pushed down.

The pain was incredible; like nothing he had ever felt before in his life. But to Chandler, it felt like bliss. It was all going to be over soon. His friends could continue on. Chandler lifted the blade up, staring at the flowing blood in wonder. It dripped onto the bedspread, much like Joey's blood had done earlier. Chandler watched it for a moment, and then moved onto the other wrist.

"I am not going to cry," he repeated, resting the blade against his wrist.

"Oh my god," a voice behind him whispered. Chandler whirled around; the blood loss nearly making him lose his footing. He held the knife out, staring at Joey defiantly.

"Don't come any closer," he said as firmly as possible, blinking away the spots that had appeared before his eyes.

"Chandler…oh my god, what have you done?" Joey whispered, starting forward.

"Don't!" Chandler screamed, his lip trembling. He was not going to cry.

Joey stopped, glancing warily at the stained knife.

"Chan, you're going to die if you don't let me help you," he said as evenly as he could, but his voice still shook. Chandler giggled. His blood was flowing quicker now, spilling onto the carpet. Chandler could hear his heart beating in his ears; getting louder by the second.

"I know," he whispered. "I-I did this for you guys."

"We don't want this Chandler; we want you. Please let me help you," Joey begged, his voice thick with unshed tears. Chandler shook his head.

"Please let me help you," he insisted, blinking once more. "If I do this, you guys will be fine."

"Chandler, please!" Joey sobbed. Chandler shook his head once more, then stumbled, a wave of dizziness hitting him. Joey took that moment to knock the knife out of Chandler's hand and grab him.

"No!" Chandler shrieked, struggling wildly against Joey's hold. "No! Fuck you! Let me go! You bastard, I'm doing this for you! Fuck you, you stupid son of a bitch!"

Chandler continued to scream obscenities at Joey, hitting him furiously with his blood covered hands. Joey took the abuse, trying to grab Chandler's sliced wrist with his hand. Dimly, Chandler heard a door open and a voice in the other room.

"Phoebe!" Joey yelled over Chandler's screams. "Call an ambulance! Now!"

"Fuck you! Why wont you just let me die!" Chandler's screams suddenly turned into sobs and he limply collapsed into Joey's arms. They fell to the floor and Chandler vaguely felt Joey wrap something around his wrist.

"Phoebe!" Joey yelled again, his voice hysterical. Chandler didn't hear Phoebe's response. He was fading quickly. Chandler knew he was dying, and he was glad. Now, his friend's could continue and he would be with Nicole and Sarah. He could stop them from being harmed again.

"It's okay Chandler, everything is going to be okay. You're going to be fine," Joey soothed, his voice shaking. He had wrapped the sheet around Chandler's wrist, but it had done little to ebb the flow of the blood. The blood had quickly soaked through the sheet, and had started dripping on the carpet once more. Joey let out a sob; he couldn't lose his best friend. Not now; not ever. Especially not like this.

"Just let me die," Chandler whispered, his eyes shutting. "I'm doing this for you."

"I'm not going to let you die Chandler; you hear me? Chandler! Chandler, stay with me!"

"Fuck you," Chandler breathed.

And then he was gone.