Hey ya'all! Geewiz, have I got a quick update...did I just say Geewiz? How lame am I? Ahem, anyway that aint the point! Lets start again. I have a quick update for ya'all! I've been a busy little girl, working my ass off on this story! Now I just gotta figure out 'Numb' hehe...I'll get there! Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, especailly Leondra...who I got like a million from! Okay, 4, but same thing! I was kinda sad when you hadnt been reviewing, so i was very glad to get some from you missy! It made my day! Anyway, enough of me blabbing on, i have to go shopping! So, please read and review and I will update soon! Love ya!

Oh and on the Ross and Phoebe subject...they may make an appearnce...they may not! I like to annoy people hehe...sorry

I do not own Friends/actors/characters, but if I did, my life would be complete...but I dont...all I own are my stupid stories! Good enough, I guess

"There was a Gellar Cup?"

Rachel stared at Ross with a look of disbelief on her face. There had been a Gellar Cup?

"Yes, it was the trophy you got if you won the game. But our Dad said, nobody won that game, and he was sick of our fighting, so he took the trophy and..." Ross paused to collect himself, looking on the verge of tears. Rachel, as much as she loved Ross, wondered briefly why she was dating a man who cried over a trophy. "…threw it in the lake." Her boyfriend finished and Rachel had to stop herself from laughing. It was hard, but she did it. Until Chandler piped up that is.

"And was the curse lifted?"

Rachel let out a small giggle, unable to contain herself any longer. Trust Chandler to come up with a line like that. Ross continued talking, but Rachel had a hard time concentrating. Instead, she was doing her trick where she squinted and her boyfriend looked like Alan Alda. It was a useful trick sometimes, for those times when Ross just kept on talking. She loved him more than life itself, but sometimes he just wouldn't let up. Especially about dinosaurs. She adored that he cared so much about stuff, but it didn't necessarily mean she had to pay attention.

"Once!" Monica's exclamation brought Rachel back to the present.

"Alright, we're gonna play," Ross told them, looking slightly scared of his little sister.

"But wait a minute though, how are we gonna get there, though, because my Mom won't let me cross the street." Monica and Ross stared in annoyance at them as the rest of the group laughed at Chandler's joke. This was why she loved Thanksgiving so much, Rachel realised. It wasn't the food, it wasn't the parade. It wasn't the snow. She loved it because it was her and her five friends spending time together. Arguing, competing, and ruining the holiday in their own special way. When she was younger, her Thanksgivings were always so perfect. Her parents would pretend to be happy, her sisters would pretend not to be brats, and they would sit watching the parade, acting like they were a loving family. Rachel had hated that. It had been such a lie. She knew that wasn't right, that her family weren't really like that.

She hated fakeness, and would have preferred the arguing and imperfections that she got every other day of the year.

With her friends, she got what she wanted. They were exactly like they were every other day of the year. They didn't hide their feelings. Chandler expressed his hatred of the holiday, yet secretly got excited about the parade. Monica showed her compulsiveness by making sure everything was perfect. Phoebe expressed her feelings about turkeys being eaten. Ross got excited about Monica's food and the fact that he would be bringing his favourite turkey sandwich to work. Joey ate more then seemed humanly possible and yet was still not full.

And Rachel enjoyed simply spending time with her friends. With the complaints, the compulsiveness, the excitement, the overeating. She loved it all. It wasn't fake. Her friends were never fake, and she adored that.

That Thanksgiving, where they played football, had been one of her favourites. They hadn't eaten proper dinner, instead feasting on the stuffing. They had spent the entire day outside, and even though everything had gone wrong, Rachel had been happier then she had ever been. She longed to enjoy that day once more, to be that happier again. Instead, she was lying on the hard floor of the cave, her body pressed up against Chandler's in an attempt to keep him warm. Her as well, but mostly him. At this moment, his health was much more important then her being warm.

She had slept; restlessly and uncomfortably. Never before had she attempted sleep on such a hard surface. She had been spoilt as a child, always having mattresses and beds when she went on a camping trip. This was a new experience, and one that Rachel didn't enjoy. But there wasn't much to enjoy anymore. Not with the world being invaded. Not with everybody dead. Not with Ross and Phoebe possibly gone. Not with Joey, sitting outside. Pretending to keep watch, but really berating himself. Hating himself for what he had been forced to do to his best friend. Not with Monica, panicking silently on the other side of Chandler, cuddled up to his body as well. Not with Monica worrying so much, and seeing too much. Not with Chandler, unconscious because of a pain that they had inflicted on him. Not with Chandler, possibly getting worse with fever on infection. Not with the possibility of him being the next to die. Or any of them really. But Chandler was her biggest worry at that moment. He was the one hurt; he was the one with more chance of being next.

Rachel didn't want that to happen. She adored Chandler, and she adored Monica and Joey. She knew as much as it would hurt her if she lost Chandler, it would hurt them a thousand times worse. Monica was his soon to be wife. To Monica, Chandler was no longer just her friend. He hadn't been just her friend for a long time, and Rachel had never known two people more suited for one another. To Monica, Chandler was her everything, and if she lost him, she would be destroyed.

Joey was Chandler's best friend and he cared about Chandler more then anything. With this new development - Joey having to hurt Chandler – Rachel knew he would take it harder still if he lost Chandler. He would blame himself for Chandler's death, even though it hadn't been his fault. That was just the way Joey was.

Joey was Chandler's best friend, and his former roommate. Those two should never be separated, Rachel had always thought. Even though Chandler belonged with Monica, she still knew that to separate the two boys would be the biggest mistake anyone could make. No one knew Chandler better then Joey, not even Monica. No one cared about Chandler more, with the exception of Monica. And just like Monica, Joey would be destroyed if Chandler died.

Rachel would be devastated, but her two other friends would be ruined.

She wasn't sure why she was even thinking of this. She had been trying to think positively during all this, trying not to think of what could happen. Only thinking of the good outcomes, the outcomes where the invaders are killed, they survive and they go find a new apartment to live in, one where Ross and Phoebe would be waiting to greet them. She had been concentrating on that.

But every now and then, the bad thoughts would sneak in. And Rachel was powerless to stop them. She couldn't control her brain. She could try, but it was fruitless.

She trembled.

The cave was cold, and they had nothing covering them, with the exception of the clothes on their backs. The blanket was being used for them to lay on, in an attempt to soften the ground. It wasn't working very well. Neither was their attempt at snuggling together. It was helping, but not much.

She trembled once more and a hand rubbed her bare arm gently.

Rachel opened her eyes to find Chandler staring back at her, concern shining in his bright eyes. Brighter then usual, Rachel noticed and wondered why that was. Fever perhaps?

He was possibly sick, most definitely hurt, and yet he was worried about keeping her warm? Monica was a lucky girl.

"You should be sleeping," Rachel whispered, breaking the early morning stillness. Chandler smiled slightly, pulling his hand away.

"I can't," he whispered back. Rachel frowned and sat up slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm fine." Rachel let out an annoyed sigh at his stubbornness.

"No you're not…are you cold?" Chandler let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

"That is one thing I am not, Rach," he muttered. Rachel's frown grew deeper as she remembered his touch; how warm it had been. She reached over and placed her freezing hand on his forehead.

"Shit." He was burning up. Rachel was no doctor, but she guessed that his temperature around 102 degrees – maybe more – and rising.

"Yeah…stay close to me. I'm a portable heater."

"This isn't funny Chandler," Rachel scolded gently. "We don't have anything to give you, nothing to keep your temperature down."

"I know," Chandler whispered, his face now serious. He shivered, causing Rachel's concern to rise even more. She glanced at Monica's still form, wondering for a moment if she should wake her friend up. She decided against it. Monica needed to rest. She could take care of Chandler, Monica needed her rest.

"What's wrong? And don't give me that crap that you are 'fine'. What's going on with that body of yours?"

Chandler let out a sigh, rolling his eyes slightly at her words. She set her jaw stubbornly, not backing down.

"My shoulder…feels like it is still…you know, burning. Like it's on fire," he murmured. Rachel bit her lip, nodding slightly. "My…my head it pounding, my entire left arm is…it's like it is numb, but at the same time it hurts like hell…that doesn't make any sense. I'm hot, but at the same time, I'm freezing. I feel like I swallowed a mouthful of dirt and it's hard to think straight…and no jokes about that being normal." Rachel smiled gently.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she said softly.

"Was that enough of an explanation, Dr Green?"

"Don't call me that, Dr Green is my father…call me Dr Rachel." Chandler smirked at her words, watching as she sat up fully and reached into their precious bag of supplies. She pulled out their remaining bottle of water and unscrewed the lid. "Can you sit up?"

"I'm not that much of an invalid, of course I can." Chandler lifted his head slightly, then squeezed his eyes shut, his head hitting the ground once more. "Okay, maybe I can't…you'll have to help me Dr Rachel."

Rachel smiled tightly, leaning over and lifting his head gently. "You know, your fiancée should be doing this…but I'm not evil enough to wake her," she murmured as she helped Chandler drink. She only let him drink a small amount, knowing that she shouldn't overload his system. Nor should she use up all the water. They didn't know how long they would be out in the woods, without any water supplies. "Better?"

"Feels like I swallowed mud now," Chandler joked weakly as Rachel replaced the lid on the bottle. It was surprisingly still cold; most likely chilled by the cool night air. She pressed it against Chandler's overheated forehead, smiling tightly as he let out a small sigh, his eyes fluttering shut. "That feels much better."

"Hungry? We got…apples and…apples."

"I'll pass at the moment," Chandler muttered, opening his eyes slightly. He watched as Rachel shivered slightly, then shook his head. "Come here." He lifted his arm, pulling Rachel down towards him. She reluctantly lay down once more at his insistence, placing the bottle next to her. "You're freezing and exhausted."

"I'm fine," Rachel insisted, although she was relieved by Chandler's body warmth, even though it wasn't a good sign.

"Now who's the liar?" Chandler smirked, glancing at Monica's still body. Rachel watched him immediately smile and she felt her heart soar. She wished she could love someone as much as they loved one another. "Is…is she okay?"

"She was upset, but that isn't really surprising…she's as okay as she can be," Rachel answered, smiling slightly. Chandler nodded forlornly, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the woman he loved. He smiled at Rachel, shivering once more. Rachel sighed, wishing there was something she could do to help him.

"Close your eyes." Chandler's words echoed that of last night and Rachel had to fight the urge to shudder, the memory of his screams and sob's hitting her with a vengeance.

"Why?"

"You're tired. We need all the rest we can get Rach…and by the look of things, it's only around six thirty or so. I think we have deserved a sleep in…Close your eyes. Go to sleep."

"I'm not sure if I can sleep Chandler…the ground is hard, the situation is scaring me and I keep hearing and seeing things that I don't want to see…Gunther dying, people dying…dead bodies. Shadows against the wall. Footsteps…you screaming. It's hard to stop my mind from bringing those things up."

Chandler nodded.

"I know…thankfully I was unconscious, so I didn't have to deal with that…but I am now," he whispered. "But, like I said, we have to sleep…close your eyes."

It was Rachel's turn to nod. She pressed up closer to Chandler's body and closed her eyes as he shivered once more.

"You're going to sleep too, right?" she asked. There was a pause.

"Of course I am." Rachel sensed the lie in his tone and scowled.

"Chandler Bing, you need the rest more then me…you are going to sleep or I am going to…get Joey to kick your ass," she growled. Chandler let out a small laugh.

"Fine." Rachel smiled, sure that he was going to sleep. Or at least attempt to. "Where is Joey, by the way?"

"Keeping watch…in other words, avoiding us and blaming himself."

"For last night?"

"Yeah." Rachel heard Chandler sigh, but he said nothing more. The silence stretched out, long and peaceful. Rachel couldn't hear anything outside. No footsteps, no animals…no birds. That worried her. It was morning; there should have been birds outside singing. But there was nothing. All that she could hear was Monica and Chandler breathing, Monica's deep and even, Chandler's slowly getting there.

Rachel tried to sleep, she really did. But the things that had been disturbing her all night came back once more. She could see people dying, she could hear Chandler screaming. She could hear footsteps.

Wait…

No, that wasn't in her mind. She really could hear footsteps.

Before she could react, a hand grabbed her, pulling her harshly up by her hair. She let out a cry, her eyes flying open. Holding her was a man she had never seen before, his eyes glaring at her, deep and hateful. There were people behind him, all with the same look in their eyes. Joey was there, a gun pointed to his back. He stared at her fearfully, and then glanced at Chandler as their friend attempted to sit up. Monica helped him and the two groups stared at each other. Rachel glanced at the gun that was now pointed at them and swallowed harshly. She had been right last night.

They were in big trouble.