Woohoo! Now that I am over my small bout of writer's block, I am on a role once more! This chapter was NOT meant to happen, but screw it...it did! I didnt want to get into the BIG stuff so quickly...i like writing this story so much, that I dont want it to end hehe. Please read and Review and I will try to update as soon as possible! Toodles!
I do not own Friends/characters/actors, although I wouldnt mind being in Rachel's position in this story!
Joey glanced up as Chandler exited the bathroom, clad only in a pair of pants. His skin was still slightly damp from the shower he had just taken. Joey eyed Chandler, worry overtaking him once more. He hadn't realised just how much weight Chandler had dropped in the last couple of weeks. Joey chewed his lip, glancing from Chandler's too slender hips to his slightly protruding ribs. It was not a healthy look. Joey made a mental note to get his friend to eat more; the majority of what Chandler had eaten recently had been vomited back up. Joey sighed, and then stood up.
"Feel better now?" he asked brightly; too brightly. Chandler nodded, looking down at his wrist. Joey followed his glance and frowned. The bandage was soaked through and was coming off. "We better change that, huh?"
"There are bandages in the bag near the door," Chandler whispered, looking slightly dazed. After his most recent breakdown, Joey had given his friend one of his happy pills from the aforementioned bag by the door. He wasn't sure what it was, but it had seemed to help a little bit.
"Yeah, I know, I saw them before," Joey said softly, walking over to the bag. "Sit down." He rummaged through the bag, grabbing the bandages. "You know, we probably don't even have to change the bandages. I mean, the bleeding has stopped, right?" Chandler said nothing, so Joey sighed, walking over to his friend. "Or we could put another bandage on."
"Yeah," Chandler murmured. Joey smiled grimly, sitting down next to his friend. He reached over and took Chandler's arm, pulling it closer to his own body. Chandler flinched slightly, a nervous expression covering his face. Joey smiled once more. He knew why Chandler was nervous. Joey hadn't seen his wrist since it had been slit. Hell, he wasn't even sure if Chandler had seen his own wrist since then. It was a nerve-wracking experience, Joey was sure.
"It's okay," he said softly. "We're going to have to see it sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now, huh?" Chandler swallowed and nodded. Joey grinned, and then slowly grasped the sodden bandage, careful not to jar his own injured hand. The cut was healing, albeit slowly. He started to unravel it, unconsciously holding his breath as he did so. He seemed calm about the whole thing, but underneath it all, Joey was still terrified. He didn't want to see Chandler's wrist, anymore then Chandler wanted to see it. Seeing the wrist would only bring back memories; memories that both of them had unsuccessfully tried to forget. Joey bit his lip as he finished unravelling the bandage.
It didn't look that bad. It didn't look that good, either, but it really didn't look that bad. The wound had been stitched together nicely, Joey noticed. The cut was red and angry, and the bruising around the wound was pretty dark, but Joey knew that it could have looked a lot worse. He had seen it look a lot worse. Joey stiffened at the thought, picturing blood pouring out of Chandler's wrist once more. He shook his head quickly, and the image disappeared.
"Joey," Chandler whispered. Joey looked up at his friend, a fake smile instantly covering his face.
"It doesn't look that bad," Joey said brightly. Chandler nodded, swallowing once more.
"I-I don't think I want to bandage it up again," he said softly. Joey's eyebrows rose.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm going to have to uncover it sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now," Chandler said with a slight smile on his face. Joey watched his face for a moment, still unsure. "Really Joe. It will be fine. Like you said, it doesn't look that bad." Joey noticed the slight trembling in Chandler's voice, and wondered if his friend was trying to force himself into doing this. "And…it feels much better uncovered."
"You're sure?" Joey asked once more. Chandler hesitated, and then nodded.
"Yeah…can you get me a shirt please?"
"Sure buddy." Joey patted his friend's shoulder then got up, making his way over to Chandler's bedroom door. He hesitated before opening it. Chandler wasn't the only one who had difficulty entering the room. It had taken Joey four tries before he could go in, and that had only been because Ross was there. Joey knew that if he had been on his own, the room never would have gotten clean. He took a deep breath, the memory hitting him full force.
The blood had been everywhere. Joey hadn't really noticed before; too worried about Chandler's paling face. The blood had been everywhere. Joey had nearly passed out at the sight. That blood had come from Chandler.
"Oh my god," Ross had moaned, his hands trembling at his sides; his stomach rolling. He hadn't seen the room before, hadn't seen the blood.
"Yeah," Joey had whispered, slowly stepping into the room. He had reached over and picked up the knife, holding it as if it was cursed. A part of Joey believed that it was. That knife, that small piece of metal, had caused so much pain. Joey had stared at the blood stained knife for a moment, then threw it into the garbage bag he had been holding. He hadn't looked at the knife again. He hadn't wanted to.
Ross and Joey had cleaned in silence, avoiding each other's glances as if they were the plague. They had left the room as quickly as possible, and had not spoken about it since. It was just too hard.
"Joey?" Chandler's voice pulled Joey from his thoughts. He jumped, then turned around to smile sheepishly at his friend.
"I'll be just a moment," he said softly, then opened the door and quickly slipped inside. He knew that Chandler had seen the look of fear on his face. He didn't want his friend to know that he was also afraid. One of them had to be strong, and Chandler certainly wasn't in any condition to be that person. Joey deftly stepped over the spot on the floor where he had held Chandler. The blood was gone, but Joey still imagined it was there. He pushed that thought out of his mind and grabbed the first shirt he saw. He turned to walk out, but then stopped and looked at the shirt. Short sleeved. He considered it for a moment, then turned around and grabbed a long sleeved jersey. Chandler may have been ready to leave the bandage off, but Joey knew that he sure as hell was not ready to leave his wrist uncovered completely. He stepped back over the spot on the floor, and then quickly left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.
That was one room he would be glad never to go back into, he thought as he walked over to his friend. He did not ever want to go back in there. But he knew that he would.
For Chandler, he would.
Rachel sat there, studying Chandler carefully. He was smiling at something Monica had said. Rachel hadn't been paying attention, but she was pretty sure Monica had said something about the bar they had used to go to. Before Rachel was around.
"You remember that Rach?" Monica asked, still laughing.
"What?" Rachel said, smiling sheepishly. She had no idea what Monica was asking her.
"When you rejected Chandler at the bar that time," Monica explained. Rachel flushed, glancing at Chandler. He was smiling at her.
"Yeah…I must have been really stupid back then," she said grinning. Chandler grinned back, unconsciously pulling his left sleeve down. Rachel frowned, noticing his action. He had been doing that all night. She wasn't sure whether she was happy or upset that he had left his wrist unbandaged. It was a big step, sure, but it was a step that Rachel wasn't sure he was ready to take.
"Or incredibly smart," Chandler remarked. Rachel rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, right, because Barry is so much better then you," she said sarcastically. Chandler smiled.
"You thought so at the time," he commented. Rachel hit his arm playfully.
"Not in her daydreams, she didn't," Monica piped up, grinning deviously. Rachel looked at her best friend in shock. She couldn't believe Monica was bringing that up.
"What's she talking about, Rach?" Phoebe urged. Rachel flushed once more, and then proceeded to tell everybody about her daydream that night. How she had missed the turnoff because she had been fantasising about kissing Chandler.
"Well, there's something I never knew," Ross said smiling.
"Yeah," Chandler agreed, smirking. Rachel smiled back at him. She loved seeing him smile like that. It almost reached his eyes. Whatever happy pill Joey had given him seemed to have worked. But then, Chandler had been hot and cold since the incident. One minute he would be smiling, the next minute he would be frowning. Or crying. Or yelling…at Joey.
Rachel glanced at Joey, who had been sitting quietly next to his best friend, playing with his bandaged hand. The two seemed to have worked out their differences, but Rachel knew that something was still bothering him. Joey smiled, noticing her looking at him. She smiled back, then shifted her glance back to Chandler. He was yawning. Rachel checked her watch. It was only 9:30, but then, it had been a long day.
Chandler had taken a lot longer to come over then she had anticipated, but she should have expected it would take a while. Joey and Chandler had things to talk about. She had been ecstatic when Joey had followed Chandler, placing a hand on his friend's back as they walked in the door. Everything was okay, she had thought.
Joey had pulled her aside as Monica fussed over Chandler. He had explained what had happened; how Chandler had freaked out. He had told Rachel about the pill, and how Chandler had left the bandage off. Rachel had nodded, glancing at Chandler. Her gaze had instantly gone to his wrist, which was covered by his black jersey. She had quickly looked away, feeling somewhat guilty for looking. She hadn't seen anything, but she still felt guilty. Chandler had smiled at her, and walked over. She had grasped his hand and led him to the couch, where it had been her turn to fuss over him. Rachel was sure that Chandler was most likely sick of them fretting, but he said nothing. She found herself constantly glancing at his covered wrist, and it had been then that she had noticed his new unconscious habit. Rachel wasn't sure if she was glad or annoyed that he kept his wrist covered. She wanted to see, but she didn't. It was a bit like a car accident; you want to look away, but you can't. This was almost the same, except Rachel had not yet seen the damage.
Monica had served lasagne again, hoping that Chandler would eat more then he had last time; when he had first come home from the hospital. He had eaten more then last time, but not much more. The drugs and the situation hadn't done much for his appetite. Monica had smiled, understanding once again. She hadn't expected him to eat too much. She had hoped, yes, but not expected. Rachel had seen the apologetic look on Chandler's face, and knew that he felt terrible. He loved Monica's cooking, and he loved Monica. He hated disappointing her in anyway.
"Tired?" Phoebe asked, beating Rachel to the punch. She was put out, but only slightly.
"What makes you say that?" Chandler asked, and then yawned again. Rachel smiled.
"Okay, I think its bed time for you, mister," she said sternly.
"It's only 9:30," Chandler protested.
"I know, but it has been a long day; long couple of days actually. Mix that with your medication, and…" she trailed off, feeling no need to explain herself further.
"Okay," Chandler agreed, albeit unwillingly. Rachel smiled once more, and gently pulled him to his feet. Her hand pushed his sleeve back a bit, and Rachel found herself automatically looking away. She had no idea why. Chandler blushed slightly, pulling his sleeve back down. Rachel gave him an apologetic glance, which he countered with a small smile.
"I think I'll head off as well," Joey decided, also standing.
"I'll walk you guys over," Rachel said softly. Chandler nodded, and they headed towards the door.
"See you tomorrow?" Phoebe asked, looking hopeful.
"Of course," Chandler exclaimed, looking slightly insulted. Phoebe smiled, and gave him a small hug. "See you guys."
There was a chorus of goodbyes as the three left the apartment.
"Where are you going to sleep tonight?" Joey asked Chandler once they entered apartment 19. Rachel looked at them curiously. "You wanna sleep in my room?" Rachel's curiosity turned into surprise. Why would Chandler be sleeping with Joey?
"Where would you sleep then?" Chandler asked softly.
"On the couch or…in your room…I guess." Rachel caught the look of apprehension on both Joey and Chandler's face at the mention of Chandler's bedroom and suddenly understood. Chandler had freaked out before about going in there. Of course he wouldn't be sleeping in there. Joey seemed to be scared of the room as well.
"Are you sure?" Chandler asked, looking at Joey.
"Of course! The couch is comfortable; you know that," Joey exclaimed. Chandler nodded.
"Thanks man," he said softly.
"Don't mention it."
Rachel thought of bringing up the option of Chandler sleeping in her bed, but decided against that. It didn't seem like the right time to suggest that.
"Do you want me to get you a change of clothes?" she said instead, glancing at Chandler's closed door. It was weird how one room could evoke such fear from people, but it did. She felt slightly odd at the thought of going in there, and she hadn't even seen what had happened in that room.
Only seen the after-effects
"That would be great," Chandler murmured, and Joey looked relieved that he wouldn't be the one going in there. Rachel rubbed Chandler's arm, then walked across the room, and slowly entered his bedroom. She glanced at the floor, a feeling of dread sweeping over her. There had been a lot of blood. Phoebe had told her that. She glanced at the fresh sheets, sitting there waiting to be lain under. Not tonight, she thought. There had been blood there too; not on those sheets, but the other ones.
Rachel shook her head, pushing those thoughts out of her mind. She walked over and found a change of clothes, then quickly left the room.
She hadn't seen what had happened in that room, but it still scared the hell out of her.
Chandler was just leaving the bathroom, after going to the toilet and brushing his teeth. He smiled gratefully at Rachel as he took the clothes from her hand. She watched him walk into Joey's room and shut the door.
"Do you think he is gonna be okay?" Rachel turned to face Joey, who was making the couch more comfortable.
"I don't know Joe," she whispered. "I want him to be; want to believe he will be, but Jesus! How could he be okay after all this?"
"I don't know," Joey said honestly, glancing at his closed door. "I really don't."
The door opened then, and Chandler walked out in his boxers and yet another long sleeved shirt.
"Who's gonna come tuck me in?" he joked, his smile not reaching his eyes.
"I will," Rachel said, walking over. Joey smiled from his position on the couch.
"Night Chan," he called.
"Night Joe."
Rachel closed the door behind them, then watched as Chandler climbed into bed. She walked forward and sat on the edge of the mattress.
"You know…" she began, then stopped, arguing with herself.
"What?" Rachel sighed, moving closer to him. Chandler took her hand in his right one, smiling at her.
"I was going to suggest that you could sleep in my bed before…you know, when Joey asked where you were going to sleep," she admitted.
"That doesn't surprise me," Chandler said softly after a beat.
"Really?" Rachel exclaimed.
"Yeah…I saw the look on your face, you were considering it."
"You think you know me so well," Rachel said playfully. Chandler grinned.
"I do know you so well."
"I know." Rachel paused, staring at their entwined hands thoughtfully. "Are you okay?"
"No," Chandler responded. "I'm trying to be, but I'm not." Rachel nodded.
"I thought you would say that; I didn't want you to, but I thought you would."
"Yeah." Chandler bit his lip, glancing up at the roof. "I-I just don't know what to do anymore Rach, you know?"
"No," Rachel murmured. "I have no idea what you are going through. I wish I did."
"I don't," Chandler said softly, looking at her once more. "I would hate to see you go through this."
"Yeah, well I hate seeing you go through this," she whispered, squeezing his hand gently. Chandler smiled grimly, then pulled her closer.
"Stay with me for a while?" he pleaded. Rachel nodded, then pulled back the covers and climbed in next to him. Chandler sighed, rubbing her hand with his own.
"Are you scared?" Rachel whispered once more.
"Terrified," he answered softly. She nodded once more.
"What are you scared of?"
"Everything," he admitted. Rachel glanced up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm scared of dying, but in a way, I'm also scared of living. I-I hate having this thing in my head, and I'm terrified of it. I keep wondering when my next seizure will be, or whether I am going to be paralysed, or if I'm going to die, and how, and when. I'm scared of the dreams, and I'm scared because I haven't had one for a while. I don't know what that means. I'm scared because I'm hurting you guys, and I'm scared because maybe me being here is hurting you guys. I-I'm so afraid that you are going to wind up dead somewhere, or that I am going to dream it. I'm scared because I tried to hurt myself…I don't want to do it again, but I wonder if I really have any say in the matter. And most of all, I'm scared that I've lost my mind."
"That's a lot of things to be scared of," Rachel said after a moment's silence. Chandler nodded.
"There are a lot of other things too, but…I don't want to go into them," he whispered, a tear trickling down his cheek. He wiped at it with his left hand. "Not going to cry."
"You can cry Chandler," Rachel murmured. Chandler shook his head.
"I have been crying so much these last couple of weeks; it's like watching Gwyneth Paltrow's Oscar speech on replay." Rachel giggled at the comparison.
"Yeah, but you have a reason," she countered.
"So did Gwyneth…she had just won an Oscar." Rachel laughed again, then watched at Chandler wiped away more tears, muttering his mantra. She reached up, and pulled his hand away.
"But still…your reason is better then hers," she insisted as he protested. Chandler sighed, letting his hand rest against the bed covers. He watched as Rachel glanced at his hand, an odd look on her face.
"What?" he asked after a moment. Rachel blushed, looking up at him.
"Nothing," she murmured.
"What were you thinking?" he persisted. Rachel sighed.
"Y-You've seen it..." she whispered, glancing at his wrist. Chandler nodded, frowning. Rachel smiled grimly, then reached down and gripped his sleeve.
"What are you doing?" he asked in surprise, instantly tensing up. Rachel looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Please?" she pleaded, sounding so much like he had on previous occasions. Chandler swallowed, and nodded. Rachel smiled again, then slowly pulled his sleeve up.
She stared down at his wrist in part horror, part awe. Tear's sprung to her eyes. How such a small cut could do so much damage was somewhat amazing to her. She ran her finger down the slit, feeling the stiches underneath her skin. Chandler watched wordlessly as she continued to stroke the wound, her touch tender and gentle.
"Please don't ever do this again baby," Rachel whispered after a moment. Chandler nodded.
"I-I wont," he promised, but something in the back of his mind told him that he might have been lying. He ignored the voice.
"Good…I can't lose you," Rachel continued, her voice thick with unshed tears, her finger still caressing the stitches.
"I know," Chandler said softly. Rachel glanced at him briefly, then looked back down at his wrist. She pulled her finger back, then gently enclosed her hand around his. Chandler watched silently as she lifted his hand up, and pressed her lips against the wound. She glanced up at him once more, her eyes wide and childlike. Chandler watched as she smiled, then kissed his wrist once more.
"I can't lose you," Rachel whimpered again, her voice shaking. Chandler bit his lip, and pulled her close.
"I know baby," he whispered, pressing his lips against her clothed shoulder. Rachel looked up and kissed him, gripping his body with desperation. Chandler pulled away, and stared deep into her eyes. She smiled, running her hand down his cheek.
"Are you sure?" Chandler asked softly, his earlier tiredness forgotten.
"Only if you're sure," she murmured. Chandler hesitated, then nodded.
"I'm sure...are you sure?" Rachel grinned.
"I need you," she whispered. Chandler smiled, and kissed her once more. He understood.
He needed her too.
