Hey ya'all, I'm back from my trip and ready to post! By the way, on my trip i bought the 'friends till the end' book...ya'all prolly dont care, but I'm excited! Thankyou for the review, it meant a lot to me! Please keep going with it! I will try to put the next chapter up either today or tomorrow...depends on if i write it! Oh and i gotta apoligise if their is any mistakes..it is FREEZING here and my hands are frozen solid...makes typing a JOY! hehe please read and review!
I dont own friends/characters/actors but i did buy Matt Perry while shopping! He wasnt cheap either!
What the…
Chandler screwed up his face in annoyance, the beeping noise growing louder by the second. What was that? What the hell was that noise? Chandler shook his head, trying to clear away the fog that lingered. The beeping noise…he knew what it was, he just couldn't remember. The answer was at the back of his brain, fighting to get ahead. But the fog; it wouldn't let the answer through. Chandler screwed up his face once more.
Where was he? What had happened? And what the hell was making that damn beeping noise?
He knew he wasn't home; the fog was unable to cover that information up. But Chandler wasn't sure exactly why he wasn't home. Something had happened, he knew that much, but what?
The answer to that question remained elusive, and Chandler groaned slightly. That damned fog again. He shook his head again, but the fog remained. Chandler groaned again; he wanted answers. All he knew at the moment was that his throat ached and his tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. There was also a dull throbbing in his left wrist, but Chandler couldn't figure out why.
Footsteps interrupted Chandler's thoughts, causing him to frown. Was that Rachel? Joey? Monica? There really was only one way to find out.
Chandler opened his eyes and blinked. The light was bright, causing a sharp shooting pain in his head. He blinked once more, and the light subsided a little.
His eyes were blurry, but he could make out a figure standing next to a machine. Chandler blinked once more, and his eyes cleared a bit. The figure had curly blonde hair that trailed down her back; almost down to her waist. Chandler frowned once more. Something told him that she should have her hair up, but he wasn't sure why. He glanced past the girl and focused on the machine she was standing in front of. There were numbers and lines on it, and Chandler didn't even bother trying to figure out what it all meant. What he did figure out was that the annoying beeping sound was coming from that machine. Chandler glared at it, wishing it would stop.
The dull throbbing in his left wrist intensified and Chandler lifted his head to look at it, wondering why it was hurting. A wave of nausea hit him and he groaned.
"That's right Mr Bing, just lay back," a voice soothed. Chandler glanced over at the girl with the flowing hair and found that it was her talking to him. She was pretty, but not in a glamorous sort of way. She was attractive in a Drew Barrymore kind of way. Chandler grimaced, wondering why he was ogling the pretty lady when he felt so ill.
The girl leaned over and gently pushed him back down. Chandler didn't bother fighting her hands. "Just lay back," the girl repeated.
"Wha…" Chandler whispered after a moment. He had wanted to say more, but found that his mouth and his brain were not on the same level at that moment. His brain wanted to ask a hundred questions, but his mouth had only produced that whisper, which had not even been a full word. Chandler shook his head in annoyance. The girl smiled gently, understanding his frustration.
"You are in the hospital Mr Bing. You were brought in around twelve hours ago," she explained. Chandler stared at her for a moment. Hospital? Why was he in a hospital? The girl, or nurse as Chandler suddenly realised, smiled at him once more. Chandler cleared his throat, and attempted to speak once more.
"I-I don't-"
"Your friend, Joey I believe, came with you in the ambulance. You lost a lot of blood," she continued. Chandler gasped, the memory hitting him with a vengeance. He had tried to help his friends. That's why his wrist hurt. He had tried to help them, and Joey had stoped him.
"I wanna go home," Chandler said in a small voice, tears filling his eyes. He didn't bother wiping at them. He kept telling himself that he wasn't going to cry –couldn't, wouldn't – but it hadn't stopped him. Chandler wanted to go home. He didn't like hospitals. Every time he was in a hospital, he got bad news. Missing toe, brain tumour, and now this. He wanted to go home, climb into his bed and never face the world again.
"I'm sorry sir, but we can't let you leave. You lost a lot of blood," the nurse said gently.
"Please?" Chandler whispered. That word had worked on his friends in the past; he saw no reason why it wouldn't work now.
"I'm sorry," the nurse repeated. Chandler let out a small sob, turning his head away. "Your friends are in the waiting room. Would you like to see one of them?" the nurse suggested. Chandler frowned, then nodded. "Okay. Who should I bring in?"
Chandler thought for a moment, then answered.
"Joey."
Joey stared down at his bandaged hand. He had cut it when he had knocked the knife out of Chandler's hand. At the time, he hadn't noticed; his fear and concern distracting him. He had only become aware of it on the ambulance, when one of the paramedics had reached over to help him. Joey had unconsciously assumed that the blood covering his hands had belonged to Chandler, not him. He covered his face with his trembling hands. Chandler's blood. Jesus. He couldn't believe it.
Joey had thought that he could never be more scared then he had been during his friends' seizure. He had been wrong.
He had walked into Chandler's room, intent on merely checking on his friend before returning to the girl's apartment. Phoebe had come over, and she and Joey had been playing poker while Rachel took a much needed nap.
Joey had told Phoebe he would be back in two minutes, and had intended to only take that long. But when he had walked into Chandler's room, his whole world had stopped.
The sight of Chandler with a knife to his right wrist – his left one already dripping with blood – had terrified him to his very soul. He had stood, frozen, for a moment, watching his best friend's blood stain the sheet below. Chandler had muttered his mantra
I'm not going to cry
and that had caused Joey's world to start up again. His whispered 'oh my god' had left his lips before he had even been aware that his mouth was opening. Chandler had spun around –nearly falling- and stared at Joey defiantly. His eyes had been wild, and his skin had started to lose its colour.
Joey rubbed his face again, remembering how he had begged Chandler.
Chandler, please!
He had known that his friend wasn't going to back down; he was determined to do this. Joey had always known that Chandler would do anything for his friends, even die for them. He knew that Chandler thought that by killing himself, he was saving the rest of them. Joey wasn't sure exactly how he had figured that, but Chandler obviously wasn't thinking clearly.
I think I'm losing my mind
Joey bit his lip, keeping the tears from coming. He had been lucky. Chandler would not have let him help, but he had been lucky. The blood loss had caused Chandler to stumble and Joey had acted fast.
He stared down at his bandaged hand once more. He hadn't even felt that, but it had cut deep. The knife had landed on the bed and Joey had grabbed Chandler, pinning his arms to his side. Joey had always prided himself with being stronger then both his male friends –both his bigger male friends – but Chandler had proved to be surprisingly strong when agitated. He had easily struggled out of Joey's hold the first time, but Joey had grabbed him once more; holding on tighter this time. It had been a slight improvement, but Chandler had still managed to get his arms free. Joey winced at the memory.
Chandler's hands had hurt; hitting him over and over with his blood covered hands. They had hurt a lot, but had been no where near as painful as Chandler's angry screams.
No! Fuck you! Let me go! You bastard, I'm doing this for you! Fuck you, you stupid son of a bitch
Joey shook his head, trying to get the memory out of his mind. Chandler had been furious at him. He had never heard his best friend so angry; never heard his best friend scream those words. Not at him anyway. Joey had tried to ignore the screams, and had concentrated on trying to grab Chandler's wrist. He knew very little about first aid, but what he did know was that he had to stem the blood flow. Chandler's thrashing arms had made that difficult, but Joey had once again been lucky.
He had heard Phoebe's voice in the other room, and had screamed for her to call an ambulance. Joey wasn't sure why Chandler had stopped; maybe it was because Phoebe was calling for help. Maybe he had been exhausted. Maybe it had been the blood loss. Maybe he had given up; given in. Joey wasn't sure why, but he was thankful for it. Chandler had collapsed – sobbing – in his arms and Joey had been unprepared for the sudden weight. They had fallen in a heap to the floor, and Joey had grabbed the first thing he saw that looked practical; the sheet. He had wrapped it around Chandler's wrist, but the blood had soaked through almost instantly. Joey had screamed Phoebe's name once more; panic hitting him with full force. He couldn't stop the blood flow. Chandler was going to die if he continued bleeding like that, and Joey couldn't stop the blood flow. He had whispered comforting words in his friend's ear, trying to reassure not only Chandler, but himself.
A sob escaped Joey's lips as he remembered how Chandler's body had gone limp; his eyes shutting. Joey had thought for a second that Chandler was gone, but then he had whispered those words.
Fuck you
Joey had started sobbing then. His best friend was dying. He may never speak to him again, and the last words exchanged between them had been hurtful ones.
Phoebe had run in at that moment, a scream coming from her mouth. She had rushed over, pulling the sheet away and covering Chandler's wrist with something else. A sweater, Joey had realised. That would work better, it was thicker then a sheet.
Phoebe had whispered to Joey that the ambulance was on its way, and Joey had nodded. He hadn't been sure why Phoebe had chosen to whisper; he still wasn't.
They had sat in silence until the paramedic's had come, both watching Chandler with fearful eyes. His face had paled considerably; his lips losing their colour. Joey had noticed in horror that his friend's breathing had become laboured, and he had been about to say something to Phoebe when the paramedics had come in.
Joey couldn't remember much of what happened next; it had been a blur. He remembered getting on the ambulance with his friend, instructing Phoebe to tell Rachel. He remembered the paramedic reaching over to help with his hand. He remembered Chandler' pale face. But that was it.
Somehow they had ended up at the hospital; the paramedics whisking Chandler away. Joey had collapsed in a chair, and sat there, in shock, for god knows how long. Someone had grabbed his hand and he had looked up to find Rachel looking at him, her face surprisingly calm. She didn't know, he had thought. She wouldn't look that calm if she had known.
Rachel had handed him a change of clothes, and Joey had stared down at the garments in confusion.
"Why don't you go get changed?" she had suggested gently. Phoebe had nodded behind her. Joey had frowned, then looked down at his clothes. He had been covered in blood. Joey had rushed to the bathroom, and painfully heaved into the toilet bowl. Once he had finished, Rachel had helped him get changed. She had gotten a funny look from a guy, wondering why she was in the men's toilet, but Rachel had politely told him to go away.
"Fuck off, you stupid bastard," she had said. The guy had looked at her in shock, then left. Joey had laughed lightly, and Rachel had smiled grimly back at him.
They had returned to the waiting room, where Monica and Ross had joined Phoebe. They had sat in silence until a nurse with flowing blonde hair – Nurse Evans - had come to talk to them. Joey had briefly thought that she reminded him of Drew Barrymore, but that thought went out his head when she spoke.
Chandler was okay. He was going to be okay.
Rachel had cried then; the first real emotion Joey had seen from her since arriving at the hospital. Monica and Phoebe had also cried, while Joey and Ross had breathed a sigh of relief. The nurse had left them, and they had continued to sit there.
It had been twelve hours and they were still sitting there. Joey was sure that they would sit there for an eternity, if that was the case. They had to be there for Chandler.
Joey glanced at Monica. She was staring off into space, a blank expression on her face. Joey wondered what she was thinking about. Most likely she was thinking about Chandler. Maybe she was daydreaming about before; when things had been normal. Joey had been doing that all day. He had been thinking about when he and Chandler had first met. Chandler had pretty much given him the brush-off, taking all of five seconds to show him around the apartment. Joey understood why; he had heard about the other applicants' sister. Joey hadn't had a chance. He knew that if he had been in Chandler's position, he would have chosen the other guy as well. Joey smirked, remembering how he had told Chandler he was fine with the gay thing. Chandler had looked offended, and Joey had realised that he had struck a nerve. He had quickly corrected himself, but had left realising that he had just blown his chance. He had also realised how hot Chandler's neighbour had been, and the way that Monica had acted around him. Joey had thought that even if he didn't get the apartment, he would still come back, just to see her again.
Joey had been surprised to hear from Chandler; he had been sure that he wasn't going to be accepted. They had bonded quickly, over Baywatch and beer, and had been inseparable since.
Joey moved his glance to Ross. He had felt intimidated by the guy at first. Ross had been so smart; knowing things that Joey had never even heard about. Chandler had understood the majority of it. He had teased Ross about it, but he had understood. Joey had felt intimidated by that. Chandler was smart, and Joey wasn't. Not as smart as those two anyway. He had been sure for a while that Chandler would become impatient with him after a while, and start hanging out with Ross more and more. That hadn't been the case, and Joey knew now that he should never have been worried about that. Chandler wasn't that type of guy. Joey had also been intimidated by the fact that Ross and Chandler were such close friends. There had been a few times where he had thought about coming between them, and he felt guilty because of that. The three had all become close friends, but Joey knew that Chandler had started to favour him. That added to his guiltiness. He had seen the hurt look on Ross's face several times. Joey sighed, moving his attention to Phoebe.
The first thing that Joey had noticed when he had met Phoebe was that she was hot. That was his first impression about a lot of girls, but Phoebe had something different. She was weird, quirky, and fun. She was a lot like Joey at times, and they had bonded quickly because of that. Joey smiled, watching Phoebe twist her hair absentmindedly. Phoebe wasn't like most girls, and Chandler had teased her constantly because of it, but Phoebe had dished it out, right back at him. Joey knew that this secretly impressed Chandler. He enjoyed having someone he could receive a mocking from; someone to have pointless conversations with.
Joey glanced at Rachel, who was flipping through a magazine. She had been a spoilt princess when she had arrived. Joey had been attracted to her looks, but had disliked her personality at first. His thoughts had been quickly changed when he realised what an amazing woman Rachel really was. Underneath all that perfect hair, make up, and princess complex, there was a sweet and wonderful girl. Rachel had blossomed into an independent woman, and she had quickly become one of Joey's favourite people. Chandler had been wary of her at first, thinking the same as Joey. But he had quickly grown to like her, and had enjoyed her company a lot. Joey was unsure when he had stopped liking her and had started loving her, but it didn't really matter. There had always been chemistry between the two, and Joey had to admit they looked great together. Ross and Rachel had been wonderful, but Joey knew that Rachel had been hurt by Ross. There was no chance of the two getting back together. Chandler and Rachel were perfect together; he only wished that they had realised their feelings before all this had happened.
"Excuse me." Joey glanced up to find the nurse with the curly blonde hair. Nurse Evans, he reminded himself.
"How's Chandler? Is he awake?" Rachel asked immediately. Nurse Evans smiled.
"Yes, he woke up a few minutes ago," she said softly.
"Is he okay? Can we see him? Is he okay?" Rachel demanded. Nurse Evan's smile grew wider.
"He's okay. He's a bit disorientated, and withdrawn."
"Does he remember what happened?" Monica asked quietly.
"I think so. He didn't say whether or not he did, but he seemed quite distressed when I told him that he had lost a lot of blood," the nurse said in a gentle voice.
"He remembers," Joey whispered. "How could he forget?"
"Can we see him?" Rachel asked once more. "I mean…does he want to see us?"
"I asked him, and he said yes. But only one person can go in," Nurse Evans explained. Rachel immediately stood up, then glanced at her friends.
"Y-You guys don't mind if I-"
"Actually, he requested that Joey go in," the nurse interrupted. Rachel sat back down, a dejected look on her face. She nodded.
"Me?" Joey exclaimed. He had been sure that Chandler wouldn't want to see him; that he would be angry at him.
"Yes. He seemed quite adamant about it." Joey wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he assumed that Chandler really wanted to see him. A small smile played across his lips as he stood up.
"Okay." He turned to face his friends, glancing at Rachel in particular. She smiled weakly at him, but Joey knew that she was irritated. "I'll be back soon."
Joey followed Nurse Evans to room 134, listening to her talk on the way.
"Dr. Mackenzie is going to come in for a psych evaluation. Your friend Ross said that Chandler had talked to him before. He will probably be in either today or tomorrow. We don't know how long Chandler will have to stay here; it really depends on what Dr. Mackenzie says. Dr. Phillips will also be up to check on him, see how things are going upstairs." Joey nodded at her words, and they stopped in front of Chandler's room. "Don't be surprised if he seems a bit reserved. He's been through a traumatic experience." Joey nodded again.
"I know; I'm getting used to him being reserved," he murmured. Nurse Evans smiled tightly, and then opened the door.
"I'll be right out here if you need anything," she said softly.
"Thankyou."
Joey entered room 134, shutting the door quietly behind him. He glanced at the bed, grimacing slightly. Chandler had his back turned to him, but Joey knew that his friend had heard him come in.
"Chandler?" Joey said softly, walking up to the bed. Chandler turned his head to face him, and Joey bit his lip to stop from crying. His face was still way too pale, and there were tears running constantly down his face. What upset Joey the most though, were Chandler's eyes. They had always been vibrant, full of life. Even throughout this whole experience, Chandler's eyes had still held a spark in them. That spark was now gone, and his eyes were dull and lifeless. "Hey buddy," Joey whispered, patting Chandler's arm gently. He glanced at the bandage around Chandler's left wrist, swallowing hard. He could still picture the blood running freely, taking Chandler's life away. Chandler watched Joey's face for a moment, with a look on his face that Joey couldn't quite place. It wasn't anger, it wasn't sadness, and it wasn't happiness. It was…Joey wasn't sure. It unnerved him all the same, having Chandler's dead eyes on him with am odd look on his face. "Nurse Evans said you wanted to see me?" Joey tried once more. Chandler watched him for a moment longer, and then turned his face away, staring at the machine next to him.
"You should have let me die." Joey closed his eyes at Chandler's whispered words.
"Chan-"
"Why couldn't you just listen to me? You should have let me die," Chandler whispered again.
"Chandler, I-"
"That's all I wanted to say. Now get out." Joey stared at Chandler's back in shock.
"What?"
"Get out!" Chandler screamed suddenly, turning back to face him. "You never listen to me! Get out! Get the fuck out of here!"
Joey backed away, his eyes filling with tears.
"Chandler," he whispered, his voice pained.
"Out!" Chandler shrieked. "You're pathetic Joey! You can't even follow a goddamn order! You should have let me die! Fuck you, you bastard! Get out! Get the fuck out!"
Joey turned and fled the room, loudly shutting the door behind him. He slammed his back against the door, and dropped to the floor.
"Are you okay?" Nurse Evans asked worriedly. Joey raised his trembling hands to his face.
"He hates me," he whispered. "My best friend hates me." Nurse Evans shook her head.
"He's just upset," she said softly. Joey shook his head.
"No. You heard him. He hates me."
Nurse Evans watched helplessly as Joey started to sob. She glanced at the closed door, and sighed.
"He hates me," Joey repeated, his voice thick with tears.
"It's gonna be okay," Nurse Evans soothed. Joey shook his head once more.
"No, it isn't. I know that now." He glanced up from his hands, tears still streaming from his face.
"Nothing it ever going to be okay again."
