"Phoebe! Wake up!" Phoebe burst out of the terrorizing scenario and opened her eyes to bright lights. She held up her hands.

"God?" she asked stupidly.

"Phoebe, what happened?" Mike asked, gripping her shoulder. Phoebe spun to face him, crying in relief. She clutched him to her hard.

"Mike. Oh Mike," she kept saying.

"I'm right here," he said. "Phoebs, tell me what happened. You were screaming and flailing your arms."

"I dreamt you died!" she cried. "It was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. I couldn't wake you up. We were in Venice." She started sobbing again.

"Well, I'm not dead," Mike pointed out. "And we're in Australia now, remember?" She looked up and around at her surroundings.

"Right," she said. "I do remember. It just felt so real."

"Dreams can seem very real," Mike said, recalling one he had had before where his mom had died. He had called her immediately after just to make sure. He understood what Phoebe was experiencing right now.

"I want to go home," Phoebe said suddenly.

"What? Why? Because of the dream?" he asked.

"No...well, yes...maybe. I dunno," she rambled. "I just miss home. We've been to a lot of places, and it's occurred to me that if you do really die, I want it to be at home."

"I hope I don't die at all," Mike said. "At least not yet. I know we have to die sometime. I've got lots more I want to do before that though."

"Me too," Phoebe nodded.

"You really want to go home?" he asked again. "What about the triplets? They're going to have to find a new place to live."

"Not necessarily," Phoebe said. "We can always get another place either for them or for ourselves."

"All right," Mike agreed. "If it's really what you want."

"It's what I want. I think we've done enough flying around to last us a lifetime," she said. She hugged him again and waited for him to fall asleep before getting out of bed and writing a postcard. She was telling her friends that she was coming home.

Channie

"What is with you today?" Frank asked her. Chandler glanced at him. She knew what he meant. She had made Leslie cry by agreeing that she was indeed fat and had called Frank a good for nothing piece of skin stretched over some bones when he had tried to scare her with the damn Gladys painting.

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"You're...upset," Frank finished. He could sense it. They were, after all, connected in some way due to being triplets. He was usually the most sensitive one who picked up on his sisters' moods.

"Just a bad dream," she said, picking up her textbook. She hoped it would ward him off. She was wrong.

"About what?" he asked, sitting down instead of walking away.

"God, Frank, do I really have to tell you?" she huffed.

"Yes! You can't keep calling us names and making Leslie cry," Frank pointed out.

"I almost made you cry," Chandler said, pointing her finger at him.

"No, you didn't," he denied. He had come close, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Whatever. I just want to be left alone," she grumbled.

"You still haven't told me about the dream," Frank said.

"Okay! Fine! I dreamt that Uncle Mike died," she snapped. "Happy now?"

"Yes, cos now we can get somewhere," Frank nodded. "It was just a dream. It didn't happen."

"You weren't there. You didn't hear Aunt Phoebe screaming," Chandler shuddered. It kept ringing in her ears. "I was Aunt Phoebe. It was so weird."

"Maybe it was something you dreamt because it's a fear you have," Frank suggested. "I don't know if you're dating someone, but if you are, maybe you're afraid they're going to die on you, but instead of dreaming it as you and him, you subconsciously changed it to Aunt Phoebe and Uncle Mike to lessen the pain."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Chandler told him. He wasn't completely wrong though. She was worried about losing Ben, and not just to death.

"What did I just say about being nice?" Frank asked, looking at her sternly.

"Okay fine," she sighed. "Thank you, Frank, for your wisdomly advice. I will take it into consideration."

"All I can ask for," he grinned. He patted her shoulder as he stood up. "Good luck on your exam today."

"I have two," she muttered. At least he remembered. Leslie didn't seem to even care that she was under so much pressure. Leslie. Oh boy, that was something she needed to clean up. She went into their shared room, finding Leslie on her bottom bunk crying her eyes out.

"Les?" Chandler called, knocking on the door.

"Go away, bitch," Leslie snarled. Chandler entered anyway.

"I didn't mean it, Les," Chandler said. "I was upset about something and took it out on you."

"You always do!" Leslie screeched, looking up at her. "You never say anything nice to me! Or Emma! Or anyone! You're just a bitter old snot who spews garbage at everyone and doesn't think twice!" She howled into more tears after this.

"Bitter old snot," Chandler mused. "I guess I had that one coming. You're right, Les, I do act mean to others because if I do it first, then it's no surprise when they're mean to me. It's a problem that I'm working on, I promise."

"Not everyone is going to be mean to you," Leslie hiccupped.

"I'd like to think so," Chandler smiled. "I'm sorry I agreed that you were fat. You're not fat. I was just fed up with you going on about it. Les, you gotta start loving who you are or else you'll be eaten alive in this world."

"It's just a few pounds," Leslie said, patting her thighs.

"It's not even that," Chandler told her. "You're beautiful. You're not fat. You're completely average. Now stop worrying about it."

"It's easy for you to say. You're a stick," Leslie moaned.

"That's cos I barely eat," Chandler said.

"That's not good for you," Leslie replied.

"I know. It's another thing I'm working on," Chandler sighed. "Come on. Get up and stop crying." She pulled at Leslie's arm until she caved and got up.

"Do you really feel that everyone is mean to you?" Leslie asked.

"It feels that way sometimes, but you're right, not everyone is," Chandler agreed. "I envy your optimism in that regard."

"I always forget about...you know," Leslie said.

"Let's not talk about it," Chandler suggested. She hugged her sister, and they went out to the living room. Frank was playing a video game.

"I gotta run," Chandler said, collecting her stuff. "See yous later."

"Good luck!" they called after her. Chandler shut the door behind her. She definitely needed all the luck she could get.

Joey

"Emma?" Joey called. "Where is my pizza?" Emma rolled her eyes and scoffed to herself. She was in her room on her bed reading.

"I didn't touch your old pizza," she called back to him. It was gross. Who ate pizza that was sitting out in an open box all night?

"Well that's odd," Joey muttered to himself. He looked over at the empty box again. Did he eat it and forget? It was puzzling to him.

"Maybe you sleepwalked again," Emma suggested, standing at her doorway and seeing her uncle looking frazzled.

"Do I do that?" he asked, surprised.

"Oh yea," Emma answered. She had found him swigging a carton of milk in his sleep with it splashing all down his front one night and muttering about how he could indeed drink it all in 10 seconds, that he'd proven once and he'd prove it again, like someone was watching him. How he didn't realize it had happened in the morning, she'll never know.

"Is that why I woke up one morning all covered in milk?" he asked her. Well, maybe he did realize it.

"That's exactly why," Emma said. "Why else would that have happened?"

"I thought maybe you had dumped it on me as a joke," Joey said, shrugging. He had been disgruntled about the so called prank he believed had happened to him. It was why he had changed her shampoo to conditioner to make her hair greasy. That hadn't been so funny in the end. She gaped at him.

"That's why you switched my shampoo?!" she shrieked. The thought had just occurred to her now.

"N-no," Joey denied. "I told you, robbers did that."

"They didn't take anything though!" she shouted. "I very much doubt robbers came in just to switch my shampoo and then not take anything. Uuuugggghhhh!" She stormed off, angry. Joey smirked to himself. That one really needed to lighten up. Life was supposed to be fun and not taken so seriously that one little thing gone wrong tilts your whole world upside down. She had a lot of learning to do, and Joey was up to the challenge.

Erica

Erica waited until she heard Lucy leave before getting out of bed. Jack was in the kitchen looking very disheveled and happy.

"Christened your new room already?" she asked, plopping down at the table.

"Oh yea," he smirked. "Totally."

"A: that's gross, and two: we need to figure out if we're going to school or just getting a job," she said.

"Wow, that's a big leap," Jack said, sitting down across from her with his coffee.

"I couldn't sleep. It was on my mind," she said. That and the noise he was making through the wall was very disruptive. She reminded herself to get a big pair of headphones to block it out next time. She shuddered, remembering it. There were just some things she didn't want to know about her brother.

"If you must know, Gunther offered me a job at the Perk," Jack said. "It's temporary while I decide what to do."

"Are you thinking of college too?" Erica asked.

"Who isn't? Seems you can't have a life without going there first," Jack complained.

"Maybe we could, though," Erica mused.

"You're such a big dreamer," Jack said, getting up and ruffling her hair. "That's what I love about you." He drained his cup and went to his room to change.

"Love you too," she muttered. She was considering what Ben had told her yesterday. She was passionate about helping people, but she was also passionate about art. She thought about the paintings and drawings she had left at home. Maybe she could start selling her work. It was an idea that hit her like a train. It could work. People liked art and spent thousands of dollars on pieces. She jumped up and hurried to her room. She needed to change and get out there and buy more supplies. She had a job to do.

A Week Later

"You think they're home?" Monica asked. Chandler shrugged. He had advised her to let them know they were coming, but she had insisted on surprising them. Now they were standing outside the kids' door waiting for someone to open it.

"Hey, guys," Joey said, coming out of his apartment. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Nobody did," Chandler replied. Joey hugged them both.

"Sorry I missed last week's dinner," he said. "She was just too hot to resist."

"We get it," Chandler said. "You coming tomorrow night?"

"I think so. Hey, have you heard from Phoebe yet?" Joey asked.

"Yes. They're coming home," Monica answered. "Got her postcard yesterday."

"Cool! I hope she brought me presents," Joey said to himself more than to them.

"I don't think they're home," Chandler said as Monica started pounding on the door. He gently grabbed her fist and pulled it away from the door.

"Let's go get a coffee," Joey suggested. It had been a while since they'd gone to Central Perk, so they agreed.

"How's the acting going?" Chandler asked. Joey shrugged.

"It's been slow. I've actually been helping direct stuff lately," he replied.

"That's great, Joe!" Monica congratulated him.

"Yea. It's pretty easy to do. I should have looked into directing earlier," Joey lamented.

"Well, you're doing it now, so well done," Chandler said, clapping his back. They arrived at the cafe and sat down on the couch.

"I can't believe this is the same couch," Monica said. "You'd think they'd have spruced up the place in the last ten years."

"What can I get for you?" Jack asked. They all paused, turning their heads to see Jack standing there with a green apron on and a notebook in his hand.

"Jack?" Monica asked. "You work here?"

"Yup," Jack answered proudly. "Going on a week now."

"Wow," Chandler said. "That's great, buddy."

"I loved working here," Joey nodded. "Gunther was a little unreasonable though."

"You closed it down to go do an audition," Monica said, scolding. "He had a right to be unreasonable."

"You worked here?" Jack asked, intrigued.

"For a bit, yea," Joey said. "Rachel did too."

"Wow," Jack said. He didn't know how to feel about that. Two of his parents' friends had worked here and moved on to greater things.

"I'm sure it's temporary, right?" Monica asked him. "Until you start school?"

"Yea. Absolutely," Jack replied. He felt his heart sink. So much for beating the system.

"Three coffees," Chandler said to him suddenly, sensing his son was feeling bad.

"And a scone. No, a muffin. No! A cookie," Joey said, grinning and nodding.

"One scouffie coming up," Jack said. He left them sitting there looking at each other.

"Can he do that?" Joey asked. "Cos that would be awesome!" He commenced dreaming of this new dessert while Monica and Chandler whispered amongst each other.

"I thought he was going to school?" Monica asked.

"He needs money to go to school, honey," Chandler said. "This is his way of getting it."

"I guess. I just pictured better things for him that's all," she sighed.

"He'll get there. We all had to suffer and do our dues before getting to where we are," Chandler reminded her. She nodded. Jack brought them their coffees and placed down Joey's dessert. His eyes bulged. It was a muffin cut in half with half a scone and a cookie in the middle of it, like a sandwich.

"What did you do with the other half of the scone?" Chandler asked, noticing.

"I ate it," Jack answered.

"You what?" Joey asked, looking upset. "But it was my scone."

"Hey, it's a new creation that I don't think Gunther would like, so shush already," Jack said. Joey stopped complaining. It looked epic after all.

"We are proud of you, Jack," Monica said while Joey scarfed down his treat.

"Thanks, Mom," Jack smiled.

"Where's your sister?" Chandler asked.

"She's at home," Jack said, confused.

"Oh. She didn't answer," Monica said, looking worried.

"Don't worry about it. She has her headphones on loud when she's painting," Jack told her.

"She's painting?" Monica asked. Now she was really worried. Erica had always planned to go to school. What was she doing painting?

"Yea. She figured she could make some money by selling her work," Jack shrugged. "They look pretty cool actually."

"I guess we'll have to go back and see her," Chandler said before Monica could open her mouth. He wanted to see Erica's work. If it was anything like the stuff she'd left at home, it would be amazing.

"Gotta get back to work," Jack said, hugging them. "I'll see you later."

"Thanks, man," Joey said, his mouth full. Jack high fived him as he passed.

Rachel & Emma

"I didn't get the job?" Emma was saying, upset. Rachel felt bad. Her boss had claimed Emma had flaunted herself sexually in order to be a more favorable candidate, and they did not tolerate that kind of behavior. She sort of believed it. Emma was her daughter after all.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Rachel said. "There just was a better candidate."

"What am I going to do?!" Emma cried. She banged her fists on the table, making Rachel jump. She was glad Ross wasn't home. He was teaching at the university today.

"I don't know, Emma. Keep looking, that's all I can say," Rachel said. "You don't always just get the first job you apply for."

"You did!" Emma said angrily.

"No. Technically I didn't apply for the job I got. I was offered an interview by a guy," Rachel said. She didn't mention that guy had caused Emma's father to lose his mind with jealously and break up their relationship.

"You mean Mark?" Emma asked. "That put you and Dad on a break?"

"Yes," Rachel answered. "But we were not on a break!" Damn, she already knew. When had Ross told her? Emma rolled her eyes, reading her mother's mind.

"Why can't that happen for me?" Emma whined.

"Maybe you're just not in the right places at the right times," Rachel suggested.

"Ugghh this isn't helping," Emma said, getting up to leave.

"Wait, aren't you staying?" Rachel asked.

"No. I have to get out there. I need to be in the right place at the right time," Emma said, quoting Rachel. "See you." Rachel felt a little sorry for her daughter as she watched her go. Life wasn't as easy as it was years ago, she knew that. She just hoped that Emma would find the place she belonged to and soon.

Leslie

Leslie was walking past the Perk when she saw Monica inside. Feeling like this was a sign, she rushed in.

"Aunt Monica!" she called, making Monica turn her head towards her. "Hi!"

"Hello," Monica replied. Chandler just waved. He was busy arguing with Joey about the Knicks.

"Hi," Leslie said again, sitting down on the arm of the couch. "I have a question to ask you."

"Okay," Monica nodded.

"Is there...would it be...could I possibly..." Leslie stammered.

"What?" Monica pressed. She could see Leslie was stressed about whatever it was she wanted to ask.

"Could I come work with you?" Leslie finally spit out quickly. "I'm an excellent chef. I've had all kinds of training. I really, really need a job, and Frank suggested I ask you." She finished with a wince. She hated that she sounded like she was begging.

"Oh, Leslie," Monica said. "If it were up to me, I'd say yes, but I have a partner at the restaurant, so I have to run it by her first."

"O-okay," Leslie said. It wasn't a flat out "no" at least. She felt awkward now.

"Honey, we should go check on Erica," Monica said, sensing this. She tugged at Chandler's sleeve.

"All right," he agreed. "Later, Joe."

"Hey, Les," Jack greeted her. She looked at him, startled.

"You work here?" she asked.

"Yup. Want anything?"

You, she thought. "No thanks," she said out loud. Jack just nodded and moved to the next customer. Leslie watched him longingly.

"Never gonna happen," Joey said, catching on.

"What?" Leslie asked, turning to him. Her face was burning now.

"He doesn't even know you exist," Joey said. "Trust me, I know."

"Not that it's any of your business," Leslie began, "but how do you know that?"

"If a man is interested in a woman, he does whatever it takes to keep talking to her or be near her. He dismissed you pretty quickly."

"That's...stupid," Leslie countered. Joey shrugged and crossed his arms.

"I'm a guy. I know lots," he said.

"I don't even like Jack," Leslie lied. "I have a boyfriend. See you around." She got up and left in a hurry. Joey shook his head, smiling. She was a horrible liar.