Once I again, I really appreciate all the reviews. They really do mean a lot to me and I'm so grateful you all are sticking with me through this story.

As usual, none of 'em belong to me except the medical personnel.

The next week passed without much incidence. Chandler seemed to be doing okay so Monica went back to work part-time. Joey was accompanying him to his chemo treatment this week. Chandler observed Joey carefully. He could tell his friend was a bit overwhelmed, but was putting on a happy face for his sake. "Say, this place is pretty nice."

"Yeah, but the food sucks," Chandler quipped. He settled in to what he began to think of as the 'chemo chair.' The view from there allowed him to see into the room across the hall. He caught a glimpse of a woman that must have been about his age. A strong wind could've blown her away. Her pale, ashen complexion was alarming. Chandler couldn't help but wonder if that was what he'd become, or if he was on that road. The sight unnerved him.

If Joey noticed, he chose to hide it. His attention was focused on the nurses.

The nurse Chandler had last week walked in. "Hello, Mr. Bing. You ready?"

"Call me Chandler. Anybody putting poison in my veins should be on a first name basis with me," he said sardonically.

"Okay Chandler. I'm Andi by the way." To Joey she said, "Is he always like this?"

Joey smiled at her. "Yeah, pretty much. He kinda grows on you after awhile, though."

"Thanks man."

"By the way, how you doin'?"

"Joe, leave the nice nurse alone."

Andi finished attaching the catheters and started the machine pumping. "Okay, you know the drill. I'll be back." She gave Joey an amused look on the way out.

"Wow, she's hot." Chandler gave Joey a warning glance. "Yeaaah. Okay. So tv?"

Chandler threw Joey the remote. "Go to it, man." Joey flipped contentedly for the next half hour.

Chandler was beginning to get quite nauseated and was actually pretty tired. It didn't help the fact that he couldn't shake the image of the woman across the hall. He tried reading, but that just seemed to make his head hurt. He tossed the magazine aside in disgust.

Joey turned his attention from the television. Chandler was picking at his clothes, a sure sign of his agitation. "You okay, man?"

Chandler sighed deeply. "Yeah, basically."

Joey followed his gaze across the hall. He tried to hide his shock without success. He recovered by returning the focus onto Chandler. "You sure man? You look kinda green?"

Chandler broke his stare and turned towards Joey. "The medicine is kicking in."

Joey became flustered. "Can I get you something? Can I do anything?"

Chandler shook his head. He didn't trust himself to speak. The nauseousness was bubbling up and threatening to show itself in a rather unpleasant manner.

Joey wrung his hands in helpless frustration. He couldn't just sit by and watch. He decided to go talk to the nurse. "I'll be back - bathroom," he lamely excused.

He rounded a corner and found her writing furiously behind a desk. "Hey, Amy?"

"Andi, actually."

"Yeah, right. Andi. Um, Chandler's really looking sick in there. Can you do something?"

Andi was touched by Joey's concern for his friend. "We are giving him medicine to counteract the nausea. Unfortunately, there's not much more we can do."

"So he just has to be sick?" Joey was appalled. Medicine that was supposed to be helping his friend was making him seem sicker.

"I'm sorry. The medicine has to be really strong - strong enough to kill all the cancer cells. But it also attacks the good cells too." Andi began writing again, but Joey stopped her.

"I want to help. What's gonna happen? What can I do?"

Andi stood up and came around the desk. "He might get really sick. The next coupla weeks are usually the worst. He'll probably be really tired. He might lose his hair. Loss of appetite and weight loss, too. But the best thing you can do for him is what you're doing now; just be his friend and be there for him."

Joey glanced down at her hand on his arm. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He willed his voice not to crack. "He's gonna get radiation treatment too. How bad is that?"

"Usually it causes fatigue, sometimes a burn at the sight. It just depends really."

Joey hesitated. He wanted to ask the dreaded question, but he didn't dare. He had a lot of information to process right now. And he had to figure out how best to help Chandler through all this. "Thanks. Thanks a lot, Andi."

"You're welcome."

Joey barely heard her reply as he trudged down the hall. So much was on his mind, that he didn't at first register what he saw.

"I'm sorry," Chandler mumbled, adverting his eyes in embarrassment.

Joey's eyes shifted downward to the mess on the floor. He inwardly chided himself for not being in here to help his friend to the bathroom so he could throw up with dignity. In Joey's mind he had already failed his friend.

"I tried to get up...," Chandler tried to explain.

"It okay, buddy. I shoulda been here." Joey gathered some washcloths and wetted them. He threw a towel down on the floor, and then gently began attending to his friend.

He traced Chandler's lips with the washcloth. Chandler shifted his gaze upward. "I couldn't get up, Joe."

His voice was so small and defeated.. Joey battled his emotions down. "It's okay, man. It's okay." Joey hugged Chandler, attempting to comfort him. His friend's body began to twitch. "Do you need me to help you to the bathroom?"

Chandler nodded. Joey kicked the towel out of the way and carefully assisted Chandler to a standing position. The pair quickly made her way into the adjoining bathroom. Chandler nearly collapsed on the cold, tile floor in front of the toilet. The retching soon followed. He was vaguely aware of Joey's hand, rubbing circles on his back. Tears sprung to his eyes with each heave. Finally spent, he collapsed back against Joey.

Joey again dutifully cleaned up after his friend and helped him back to the chair, situating the iv pole nearest the bathroom.

"You know, Joe. You might have found your calling. You're pretty good at this nursing stuff."

Joey gave him a forced smile. "Anytime." In the back of his mind he was wondering how they'd make it home.

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Fortunately, Andi had provided them with an emesis basin for the drive home. Chandler used it once, but by now there wasn't much to get rid of.

Joey bore most of the weight as they made it up the stairs. "You wanna go in the bedroom?"

Chandler's knees wavered. "I think I'll stay on the couch. Closer to the bathroom." He closed his eyes against the nausea.

Joey hated to keep him awake, but Chandler needed some fluids. He filled a glass with tap water and brought it over. "Why don't you drink some?"

Chandler accepted it, but his hands were shaking so badly he could barely get it to his lips. Joey steadied his hands with his own and helped him sip.

Chandler coughed and spluttered. Joey took the glass and set it down. He aided his friend in lying back and covered him with a blanket. His eyes mercifully fell closed so Joey leaned back in the chair adjacent from the couch and began his vigil.

It was only two in the afternoon, but it felt like two in the morning. Although he was drained, Joey's mind was racing. Witnessing Chandler in such a state had been distressing to say the least. He felt a pang in his chest just imagining what the next couple of weeks would be like for his best friend. Andi's words kept replaying in his mind.

Joey was grateful it was actually still early in the afternoon. Monica was working through the dinner shift and Joey knew that Chandler would not want her to see him like this.

It just wasn't fair! This wasn't supposed to happen to his best friend. He was still so young, and trying to start a family. It was supposed to happen to other people, not someone he considered a brother. He wished it were him.

Joey's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of retching. He checked the couch, but Chandler wasn't there. Realizing he must have dozed off, he left his seat to find Chandler draped over the toilet. Hewas holdinghimself up with his forearms, heaving intermittently.

Joey again tried to comfort Chandler, but more retching soon followed, turning violent. Chandler was shaking with the effort and Joey tried to support him, but Chandler ripped away from his grasp to throw up again.

Joey finally got Chandler to relax against himand put his full weight on Joey. Chandler seemed to slow his breathing somewhat before he shot forward once again to empty the contents of his stomach.

The rest of the afternoon continued on like that. Joey was sick with worry. He considered taking Chandler to the hospital, but he kept hearing Andi's words. He ultimately decided to stay put and do whatever it took to see Chandler through this.

As the light started to shift in the apartment, Chandler sat back against Joey once more. He gripped the sink with both hands and tried to push himself up into a standing position. Joey got underneath of him and helped him the rest of the way up.

Chandler started towards the living room but faltered. He corrected himself and made his way carefully to the couch, using the other pieces of furniture for support. He wanted more than anything to tell Joey he was sorry and that he was glad he was here, but all his energy was sapped. He opted for a small smile.

Joey understood. There were no need for words. He stayed by Chandler's side until he fell asleep, and then he went to scrub the bathroom. Chandler didn't have to tell him what he already knew - Monica could not know how horrible this day had been. Joey prayed that after some rest, Chandler would feel better.

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Monica placed herself next to Chandler on the couch after disposing of her coat. "Hi, baby. How are you? Did everything go okay today?" She caressed his cheek lovingly.

"Yeah, I suppose. I got a little sick though - just a little," he added hurriedly.

"I'm so sorry honey. I wish I would have been here."

"Uh, no you don't. Besides, Joey took real good care of me." The two shared a look.

Monica moved towards the kitchen. "Well, are you hungry? I could make you something to eat?"

Chandler shook his head vehemently. Even the thought of food made him queasy all over again. "Too tired right now. Maybe later," he excused.

Monica continued to fuss over Chandler while Joey quietly slipped out. He ran into Ross in the hallway. "Hey."

"Hey. I was just coming over to check on Chandler. How's he doing?" Joey ushered Ross into his apartment. "Hey, what gives?"

Joey sank down into the chair and covered his face with his hands. It took Ross several seconds to realize Joey was crying. His heart sank into his stomach fearing the worst. "Joe..."

Joey swiped away the tears angrily. "It was horrible, Ross. He pretty much threw up for four hours straight. If this keeps up, I don't see how he'll get through this. And on top of everything, he's gotta start radiation treatment next week." Joey couldn't sit still. He got up and crossed to the kitchen. He grabbed a beer and tossed one to Ross.

Ross was at a loss for words. He took a swallow of beer and considered what Joey had told him. "I know it must be terrible, but lots of people go through it and come out okay."

"And lots of people don't!" Joey said this firmly, in a tone he was unaccustomed to using. "You weren't there! You didn't see how sick he was."

"You're right, I wasn't. But I will be next week."

Joey was taken aback by this revelation. Ross explained, "Chandler figured it's be easier on all of us if we took turns - especially Mon."

Joey relaxed. "Yeah. He's really afraid of how hard this is on her. So please, whatever you do, do not tell her what I told you today."

"She doesn't know?" Joey shook his head. "Okay, whatever Chandler wants. But she will find out eventually." There was a long pause where neither friend knew what to say. Ross finished his beer and set it on the counter. "C'mon. Let's go see Chandler."

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Chandler was propped up on the couch much the way Joey had left him. Monica was handing him a glass of water. His hands were still shaking as he sipped. If Monica saw, she chose to ignore it. She greeted Ross and Joey with a nod, her attention focused on Chandler.

Ross sat on the coffee table so he could be face to face with Chandler. "Hey, man."

"Hey." Chandler watched as Ross drummed his fingers against one another. "If you're training for the shadow puppet championship, I'd say you have a long way to go."

Ross laughed nervously. He avoided looking at Chandler directly. He didn't want to see the paleness and the weight loss that was already starting to be noticeable.

Chandler picked up on this and tried to break the ice with a joke. "Oh, how are you Chandler? Why Ross, I'm fine. I got this great weight loss diet I'm on. It's the no food, all puke diet. It's working great." Chandler smiled to cut the acidity of his remarks.

Ross returned a half-smile. "I'm glad your sense of humor is still intact."

"Yeah, I don't know about all my other parts though." Chandler sniffed at his clothes. "You know, I could use a shower and a change of clothes."

He sat himself up on the couch and steadied himself. He waved away a helping hand from Monica as he stood on shaky legs and slowly ambled off to the bathroom. After a nudge from Monica, Joey grabbed some clean clothes from the dresser and brought them into the bathroom. The shower was running, but Chandler hadn't quite got in yet. "Sorry man. I was just bringing in some..." he pointed at the clothes.

"It's okay. I'm just catching my breath."

"Do you need any help?"

"No. I'll be alright. Thanks, man." Joey left, but kept one eye and ear on the door.

Rachel and Phoebe came in. The both wanted to know how Chandler was doing. When they got a satisfactory answer they both went to help Monica in the kitchen.

It had been about a half hour. Joey was getting concerned. Just as he was about ready to knock on the bathroom door, Chandler exited. He jumped at coming face to face with Joey.

"Sorry, man. I was just getting ready to - "

"- check up on me," Chandler finished for him.

"Yeah." Joey shifted his weight from foot to foot. The awkward moment was broken by Chandler when he stepped aside and went into the bedroom.

Monica watched the exchange with curiosity. She distractedly rattled off some instructions to Rachel and Phoebe about cooking dinner, and followed him into the bedroom.

She found her husband sitting on the bed with his head hanging down, cupped between his hands. Monica sat down next to him and stroked his back. It was silent for a few minutes before she finally spoke up. "Honey, are you really alright?"

Chandler raised his head to look at her. "Yeah. Just really tired, sweetie." He yawned to emphasize the point.

"Why don't you lie down for awhile and get some rest?"

"Everyone's out there. I don't wanna be rude." In truth, he felt that by giving in to the fatigue, he would be giving into the disease.

"Sweetie, they'll understand. You're sick and you've gotta take care of yourself."

"Yeah, everyone keeps reminding me of that." Chandler sucked in air through his nose. "Look, I don't mean to complain. I just want..."

Monica placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "What?"

"I want to be treated normally. I want things to go back to the way they were. You shouldn't have to work so hard. Joey should be watching Baywatch with me, not watching me throw up. I hate going through this, but I hate having all of you worrying about me even more. I don't know what I'm trying to say..."

Chandler was on the verge of breaking down, and so was Monica. He was just so...worn out. He willed her not to cry. If she let go, so would he. And he was trying so hard to be strong for her.

As if reading his thoughts, she stood up and turned away from him in an attempt to get herself under control. The last thing he needed was for her to break down in front of him. She began straightening and re-straightening items atop the dresser. Cleaning always calmed her down. "I know you're probably not too hungry, but I could fix you some soup or something."

"Soup sounds fine."

Grateful to have something to do, she left.

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Chandler lay on the cold, steel table. He felt a heavy object draped across his midsection and then rearranged to cover his genitals. "Usually my wife buys me dinner first before... oh, nevermind." The joke died on his lips as he realized that whoever-it-was had already left.

He felt something cold on his thigh and he nearly sat up until a hand gently restrained him. "Just marking the spot, Mr. Bing. You'll be under the machine soon."

"Can't wait," Chandler answered wryly.

He heard the machine being moved into place and a warm sensation began right above his knee. The radiologist had told him to expect to be in here for about a half hour so he replayed the ride to the treatment center with Ross in his head - not that there was much to replay.

Ross had been silent for the majority of the time. It seemed as if he were about to say something several times, but for whatever reason he held the words back.

Chandler was mildly annoyed. He hadn't really talked to his friend since he had disclosed his illness, other than small talk. He didn't know what he expected of Ross, but certainly more than this blank slate. He missed his friend.

The uncomfortable silence continued in the waiting room until Chandler's name was finally called. Only then did Ross utter a cursory, "Good luck."

The machine went quiet, jolting Chandler out of his thoughts. "That's it, Mr. Bing."

"Really? That's it?" He sat up on the table feeling exposed. The hospital gown barely covered him.

"Yes, really. That marking on your leg needs to stay there until the radiation treatment is over."

As the assistant left, he stared at the purple marking on his right leg, just above the knee. It was weird to think that that spot, underneath all the skin and muscle, was where the cancer had infiltrated his bone. Such a thought was hard to fathom. It still seemed surreal somehow.

Chandler quickly pulled on his shirt and pants and met Ross in the waiting room. They walked without speaking to the other floor of the treatment center. They entered into chaos. Chandler spotted Andi rushing past him. "Hey, Andi."

"Hi Chandler. Look, we've got a little situation here so it might be awhile before I can get you started. Could you wait for me in room 8 down at the end of the hall?"

"Sure, no problem." She was gone before he answered. As they passed the room Andi had disappeared into, Chandler couldn't help but peak in. The woman he had seen across the hallway last week was being frantically worked on by a team of doctors and nurses. There was a red cart next to her.

Ross tried to pull him away, but his feet were rooted to the spot. Andi caught his eye. She noticed his horrified expression and gestured with her head for him to go. He did so reluctantly.

Ross could tell his friend was visibly shaken by what they had just witnessed. He tried to distract him with some inane conversation, but Chandler was obviously lost in his own world.

"Are you mad at me, Ross?" The question seemed to come from left field.

"No! My God, why would you think that?"

"It's just - well...you haven't really been talking to me lately."

At first Ross denied it, but then he looked down ashamed. "The truth is, I don't really have a good reason. I just don't know how to act around you."

"Because I'm sick," Chandler questioned softly.

Ross sniffed back a tear. He nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm still the same guy. Nothing's changed. Okay, maybe one thing's changed. But I'm still your old college roommate. I'm still your brother-in-law. And I am most definitely still your friend."

Ross tried to hide the fact that he was now openly crying. "Deep down I know that. But I'm scared of losing all those guys."

"Me too. But what scares me the most about this whole thing is I might lose you - or all you guys. Who wants to be around a sick guy?"

Ross gathered the courage to look him in the eye. "I am so sorry. I've been such an ass. Still friends?" Chandler shrugged and gave him a smirk. Ross saw the gleam in Chandler's eyes and knew they would be okay.

"Wanna hug it out?"

Andi walked in as they were embracing. "I guess I should have knocked first." The pair of friends cleared their throats and turned away from each other, cheeks burning.

Chandler took a seat in the now-familiar chair. "That other girl - is she okay?"

Andi smiled sadly and shook her head. She could read Chandler's expression and saw that he was putting himself in that patient's place. "She had stage 4 ovarian cancer with mets to the brain. The chemo was palliative. There was no chance of recovery. You, on the other hand, have an excellent chance of remission. So let's get started."

Chandler unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt allowing Andi access to the port. He gauged Ross's reaction to the process, and to his credit, he didn't wince as the needle was inserted as Joey and Monica did. But Ross was rather nonplused at the medicine dripping in.

Ross busied himself checking out all of the medical equipment in the room. That was fine with Chandler. He reclined back and drifted off into sleep.

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Chandler had never been so grateful to be back in their apartment again. The fatigue was encompassing and the need to throw up was becoming urgent. He hurried past Ross into the bathroom and just made it. "Deja vu," he gasped in between the retching.

Ross stood in the doorway unsure of what to do. Once the heaving slowed down he helped Chandler out of his jacket. He stepped into the other room to hang it up and slip out of his own. He halted, hearing more retching coming from the bathroom.

Chandler cried out. Ross rushed back into the bathroom and found Chandler on the floor, his face contorted in pain. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Don't know...hurts," was all he could squeak out. He was shivering violently. Ross snatched a blanket off the couch and wrapped it around Chandler's shoulders.

The shivering abated somewhat, but reemerged with each new round of heaves. Ross threw an arm around him for warmth. "Shit, Chandler. You're burning up."

Ross reached around and got the thermometer out of the medicine cabinet. He made Chandler put it in his mouth. When it beeped he took it out. 103.1!

Chandler squinted to see the reading, but he was shaking too much and looked at Ross. "It's 103.1. I'm calling the doctor."

That was the last thing Chandler wanted. If he had to go to the hospital, then Monica would follow. It would upset her, and that thought disturbed him. He had caused her enough grief of late.

Ross came back in the room calmly. "Chandler, the doctor said I should take you to the ER so they can find out what's causing this fever."

Chandler leaned his head back against the cold tiled wall trying to refrain from crying. He had never felt so sick in his life. He wanted it to end.

He vaguely felt Ross putting his jacket on and rewrapping him in a blanket. He knew he was now standing, but he didn't remember getting up. Something was pulling him through the apartment and into a car. Time was choppy and overlapping. He thought he saw Joey, but Ross was with him. Or was it Joey? Things were all muddled in his head. He felt arms lifting him up as the darkness engulfed him.

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"Ross! Where is he? Is he okay?" Monica came tearing down the hallway. Her words came out in a rush, forming one long sentence.

Ross caught her by the shoulders. "He's gonna be okay. He was really dehydrated and his white blood cell count is really low. He's got an infection, but they are treating him with antibiotics."

"Where is he? I need to see him!" Monica couldn't keep the panic out of her voice. Deep down she knew the cancer was real, but on the surface denial lingered. It was the only way she could function. If she gave into the fear, it would be letting this disease overtake their lives. And that just wasn't an option.

Ross pointed to a room across the hall. Monica started that way but he stopped her. "Uh, Mon. You gotta wear a mask."

She donned the mask quickly and pushed through the door. Chandler appeared to be asleep, but as she moved closer he opened his eyes. "Are you here to rob me," he joked. Monica was confused until he gestured at the mask.

She put on a smile. "Hi, baby. How you feeling?"

They entwined hands. "Better. I didn't mean to worry you."

She blinked back tears. "So what did the doctor say?"

"I gotta stay a couple of more days and get iv antibiotics and get my white count up. But the good news is no chemo next week until my white blood cells come up." He put on a brave face to reassure her, but was too weak to stay sitting up. He layed back against the pillow, and pulled his wife down next to him. They stayed that way until visiting hours were over.

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It was over a week before Chandler got to come home. His white blood cell count stubbornly refused to go up. Although there was no chemotherapy treatment this week, he was still able to have the radiation treatment.

His leg was becoming quite sore, and as a result he was limping slightly. Joey had a hand on his arm to steady him. "Really, I'm alright. I just wanna take a shower and get the hospital funk off of me."

Monica gave him a stern look, but she could see she wasn't going to sway him. "Okay, fine. But use Joey's. It's easier to get in and out of."

Chandler conceded that point and headed towards Joey's apartment. Once in the bathroom he stripped down to his boxers. He caught his reflection in the mirror. The sight he saw disgusted him. He was pale and his ribs jutted out. There were bags under his eyes and his skin hung loosely on his thin frame. Only two months ago he was a healthy, relatively happy man. How fast things changed.

There was a knock on the door. "Chan, I got some clean towels." Chandler reluctantly opened the door to accept the towels. If Joey was appalled at his appearance, he didn't show it. "Uh, can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What?"

"What's that purple writing on your leg?" Joey reached out to touch it and Chandler involuntarily took a step back. Joey looked at him apologetically.

"It's there so they know where to give me the radiation, Joe. It's gotta stay there until it's over."

"Oh, right." Joey couldn't think of anything else to say. He backed out and closed the door behind him. As soon as he heard the shower running, he sat down and cried. It was something he was doing more and more of lately.

Chandler's fragile appearance was disturbing enough, but the purple markings on his leg were heartbreaking. Even Joey could figure out that for Chandler it was an outward reminder, everyday, that that's where the cancer had spread. Every time he got dressed or went to the bathroom, his best friend had to face his own mortality. Where was the sense of it all? Why did one man in his 30's get stricken while the man beside him stayed totally healthy. How could God allow that?

Joey couldn't wrap his brain around it. He was so overwhelmed with love for his best friend that his heart literally ached. When Chandler emerged from the shower dripping wet, Joey hugged him so hard that they both nearly fell over.

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Chandler awakened to a note on the pillow next to him. Chandler, I didn't want to wake you. Rachel will be here at 9 to take you to chemo. I love you with all my heart. Monica.

Something else on his pillow captured his attention. He ran his hand over the pillow. Fine brown hairs danced off the pillow. It took a few seconds to register that the hairs belonged to him.

He ran out of the bedroom, headed straight for the bathroom mirror. His fingers trembled as he ran them through his hair. Big clumps came out with each sweep of his hand. He stared at his reflection in horror.

On some level he knew this was going to happen. But every little setback or side effect took him down a notch. Already insecure, he felt monstrous, completely unlovable. He was Quasimodo - he was diseased. Self pity threatened to overtake him again.

"Hello? Chandler?" Rachel came in and set her purse on the kitchen table. Chandler splashed some water on his face. He desperately searched for a hat or something to cover up his head.

Rachel knocked. He knew there was no disguising it so he took a deep breath and opened the door.

Chandler sat down on the edge of the tub. "I'm losing my hair, Rach," he stated matter-of-factly. The tears threatened to spill over.

Rachel reached out to comb her fingers through his hair, but stopped mid-air when she noticed the patchiness. Her hands flew to her mouth and she teared up. "Oh, Chandler."

She sat down on the tub next to him and slung her arm across his shoulders. She layed her head on his shoulder. Chandler picked at a loose thread.

"Ya know Chandler. There are a lot of sexy bald guys out there."

"Name one."

"Sean Connery."

"I don't have an accent."

"Or, ooh. Bruce Willis. He is definitely hot."

"John McClane? I am definitely not cool enough."

"Yeah, okay," she agreed. "I know it sounds stupid now, but it will grow back."

"Yeah, I know," he conceded. "I know it sounds silly and vain and stuff, but I kinda liked my hair. I was attached to it."

Rachel gave him a playful shove. "Ha, ha."

"Help me fix it?" He handed her a razor.

"I would love to, but we're gonna be late." She handed him back the razor.

"We can do it there I guess. At least help me find a cool hat?"

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"I look like that lady on the syrup bottle," Chandler sneered referring to the red bandana on his head.

"No you don't. For one thing you don't have boobs. And for another thing you're not fat."

"How come I have a sudden craving for pancakes?"

They walked swiftly into the treatment center and up to the floor. "It was the best I could do on short notice. It's not that bad."

Chandler led her into the room and sat down in the chair. He gave her a look. "Okay. How 'bout we go shopping and get a cool hat after all this?"

He gave a noncommital nod. He wasn't sure how he would feel later. Rachel gave him a questioning look, but dropped it when Andi walked in.

After the process of initiating the chemo, Chandler handed Rachel the razor. "Get started."

"What, here?"

Chandler shrugged. "There's nothing better to do." She plugged it in and got started as he requested. The buzzing of the razor drowned out the ticking of the iv pump.

Rachel observed his face for any signs of distress. Chandler looked mildly uncomfortable, but otherwise okay. She switched the razor off and stepped back. "Do you want to see.."

Chandler shook his head and smiled. "No thanks. I think I'll pass." Rachel was staring. "Is it that bad?"

"No, I just never realized what a great smile you have."

"Um, thanks I guess." The nausea was about to make an unwelcome appearance. He was growing rather tired of emptying his stomach contents in front of his friends. "Hey, Rach? I'm actually a little hungry. Would you mind getting some crackers or something outta the vending machine?"

"Of course, sweetie. I'll be right back."

As soon as Rachel was out the door, Chandler rushed to the bathroom. He was in a cold sweat from the effort, but he still barely made it.

Rachel was halfway to the vending machine before she realized she had forgotten her purse. As she got closer to the room she heard the retching. Her first instinct was to run in there, but something gave her pause. Chandler had obviously sent her out on a false errand.

She waited until she heard the toilet flush and the door open before she reentered. "Forgot my purse."

"Oh okay."

Chandler was trying to compose himself for her benefit and it didn't go unnoticed. Rachel played along. Throughout the chemo session he kept glancing at her with this guilty, embarrassed expression. She wished he didn't feel as if he had to hide his illness from her.

"Honey, if you don't feel like going shopping, we don't have to."

"Actually, I think I'm okay."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hm. Besides, I really need to get a hat to cover up this red bandana."

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Rachel skipped ahead. "Ooh, how about this one?" She went through a variety of hats and Chandler made a face at every one of them.

"Come oooon, Chandler. Give me some idea."

Chandler was only half listening. Everywhere around him, it seemed people were staring at him. Neither a red bandana nor a man with no hair was exactly inconspicuous, no matter how much he wished he blended in with the wallpaper.

Rachel came up to him with another armload of hats. He searched among them until he came up with a simple black baseball cap with a cartoon character on it. "This is it. This is the one."

"Ugh, finally! You are even pickier than I am." She left to pay for the purchase. When she returned, Chandler took it from her and placed it on his head backwards. He left the store in a hurry, away from all the staring.

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"Where the hell have you been," Monica asked accusingly.

"Getting chemo and radiation, remember," Chandler retorted.

"Yes, but it's almost dinner time. You're usually home hours by now," Monica reminded him.

Rachel defended him. "Go easy on him. I took him shopping."

"Shopping! What were you thinking! After the chemo, he feels -"

"Mon, it was my idea. I feel okay today. I needed something and Rachel was just helping me out."

Monica's concern was masked in anger. "What could you need so urgently?"

"A hat," he stated simply.

Monica was perplexed. He had tons of old ratty hats that she begged him to throw out. Realization dawned on her as he removed the baseball cap and she got a glimpse of the red bandana beneath it. He would normally never be caught dead in such a get-up. Chandler removed the bandana revealing only skin, where the day before had been thick, luxurious brown hair. Monica's tears dampened his shirt as she clung to him "I don't know what to say. I shouldn't have gotten so upset. I was just worried something had happened to you," she whispered into his shirt.

"I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere." He stroked her raven hair soothingly.

Rachel slipped out after a wave to Chandler. He mouthed 'thanks' to her as she drew the door shut.

Chandler pulled Monica in for a kiss. She eyed him hungrily and led him towards to bedroom. She disrobed him, as well as herself as she pushed him gently onto the bed. He returned her advances eagerly. It had been months since they had been intimate.

Monica let her hands roam up Chandler's body. She reached up to take off his hat, but he deflected her. She made another attempt, but he stopped her once again. "Please, Mon. Don't."

She saw the insecurity in his eyes. Monica tried to reassure him with a kiss and an 'I love you', but he wasn't swayed. "Honey, if you're not feeling up to it, we don't have to."

"I want to. Boy do I want to. But I'm not sure if it's fair to you."

She leaned up on one arm. "How do you mean?"

"I mean...look at me. Besides...I don't even know if I can." He studied his hands.

Monica hooked her finger under his chin and tilted it upwards until they were face to face. She took a breath before beginning. "Do you remember that conversation we had after I ran into that woman you broke up with because she got fat?" He nodded in response. "Good, because you said you'd love me no matter what I look like or no matter what happened because I'm me. That's the way I feel about you. I don't care what you look like. I love you because you're Chandler - you're you. No side effects, no illness will ever change that."

Chandler hung on her every word. He wanted so badly to believe her. There was no doubt she loved him, but it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel like the man she married - the man he promised her he could be.

Monica kissed him tenderly. She slid a hand under the covers, and he responded. They made love slowly and sweetly, savoring the moment.

They collapsed back onto the pillows completely satisfied. "Wow!"

"I know!" Monica shouted her signature phrase.

"You're amazing." Chandler picked his hat up and put it back on his head.

"You weren't so bad yourself." Monica was glowing, but she was saddened that Chandler didn't feel secure enough with her to leave his hat off. She didn't want him to feel self-conscious around her, but she didn't know how to convince him of that. Instead she smiled at him, and lay her head on his chest.

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Ross, Joey, and Chandler were tossing the football around in the park. With several more rounds of chemo and radiation behind him, Chandler was getting into the routine. He felt bad for a couple of days and then he had a couple relatively normal days. Today was one of the latter.

The fall wind was chilly, a reminder that summer had come and gone. The leaves crunched underfoot. Ross was telling some 'interesting' facts about dinosaurs that Chandler had long since tuned out. "Ross," Joey interrupted. "Stop with the dinosaurs already. It's dino-boring." Joey looked over at Chandler trying to get him to join in mocking Ross, but Chandler was a million miles away. "You okay, man?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, just tired. I think I'll sit out awhile." Chandler made his way over to the park bench and eased down.

Joey and Ross did not fail to notice the limp that Chandler had developed in recent weeks. He never complained, but it became obvious that he was in quite a bit of pain. The two friends joined Chandler on an adjacent bench.

"You know, I'm kinda hungry. You guys want to go to Central Perk and get some coffee or something?" Ross shot Joey a look to prompt a response. Ross didn't want to make it seem like they had stopped playing because Chandler had.

"Uh, yeah. I wouldn't mind some coffee. Chan?" Joey gestured with his hand and dropped the football in the process. He reached behind the bench Chandler was sitting on to retrieve it, but on the way back up he inadvertently knocked Chandler's hat off. "Oh man. I'm sorry."

Chandler scrambled to pick it up and shoved it back on his head. "It's okay," he muttered.

Joey swallowed hard. "Is that - is that from the chemo?"

Chandler nodded without making eye contact. There was an awkward silence that followed. Ross and Joey could tell he didn't want to talk about it. "So, coffee?" Chandler began limping in the general direction of the coffee house. Joey and Ross followed.

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Ross set three steaming mugs down on the table and sat down on the couch next to Chandler. Chandler subsequently got up. "Going to the bathroom," he explained.

Ross and Joey watched as he walked away. Ross scooted closer to the chair Joey was sitting in. "How much weight has he lost, Joey?"

Joey shrugged. "I'm not exactly sure, but it's a lot. He hardly eats and he throws up a lot. He tries to hide it, but..."

Ross sighed. "I'm worried about him. He looks awful. And have you noticed him limping?"

"Yeah," Joey admitted reluctantly.

"I wonder how much longer he has on the treatments."

"I'm not sure yet."

Ross was startled. He hadn't heard Chandler come up behind him. "You're not sure?"

Chandler came around the couch and sat back down. "I had some blood drawn and a bone marrow biopsy a couple of days ago. I haven't got the results back yet. The only thing I know is that I have 30 more radiation treatments."

"30?" Joey was astonished. That was way over the original number.

"Is there are echo in here? Yeah, 30." Chandler cleared his throat and dampened his biting tone. "Yeah, um...that spot isn't going away as fast as they thought. They're stepping it up a notch."

"I'm sorry man."

Chandler tossed the football from hand to hand. He shrugged dismissively. " Yeah, well...what can you do?"

Chandler started to get up again, but Joey held up a hand to stop him. "So that's it?"

"Pretty much. Look, I don't know what you expect me to say. I kinda don't have a choice here."

"Isn't there something else the doctor can do? Some sort of alternative therapy?"

"Have you been talking to Phoebe lately? Look, I'm gonna do what has to be done." Chandler had gone on the defensive.

Ross shot Joey a warning glance to back down. Joey thankfully took the cue. "I'm really not trying to get on your case. It's just we're all worried about you. I thought all this treatment was supposed to make you better, not sicker."

Chandler couldn't help himself; he snapped. "I have cancer, Joe. Do you understand that. I am sick, but I'm doing everything I can to change that short of letting them cut off my leg."

Ross nearly choked on his coffee. "Wh-wh-what? Did you say 'cut off your leg'? As in amputate?"

"Yeah. That's why they're stepping up the radiation treatment. Alright? They are trying to prevent the cancer from spreading even further so they can save my leg. Are you happy now?" Chandler made another attempt to get up again, but Joey sat him back down.

"Don't leave like that. I didn't mean to upset you. We all just want to see you get better. It hurts to see you like this."

Gunther watched the exchange from behind the counter. Heated words were traded. He caught the words 'cancer' and 'treatments'. Clearly it was one of the three guys that was the subject of the discussion. He hoped it was Ross. He hated that guy, or any guy Rachel was going out with for that matter. But as he studied the three friends, it became clear who was the unlucky one.

Chandler got up for the third time, but this time no one stopped him. He limped out into the cold. Three pairs of eyes followed his retreat. He paused slightly as his eyes scrunched up in pain. He moved out of sight shortly thereafter.

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Chandler walked angrily down the street. Didn't they get it? Didn't anyone get it? He was in a fight for his life here. He had no say in the side effects of those drugs, or if they even worked or not. He wanted so desperately for this to end. Losing his hair sucked, but losing a leg was even worse. That wouldn't grow back.

His ringing cell phone interrupted his thoughts. He looked at the screen. It was the doctor calling with the results. He paused on the sidewalk to answer it as the people streamed past him on the sidewalk. Chandler sank to the curb and sat dumbfounded as he listened. The doctor wanted to speak to him in his office immediately. A face to face meeting was not a good sign. Good news was given over the phone, but bad news...No more bad news. Please, no more bad news.

TBC

What was Chandler's news?