I present the next chapter in my story. I would have updated sooner but work sometimes gets in the way. This was one of the hardest chapters I've written so far. I wrote and then re-wrote parts of this chapter twice. I wanted to get it as close to "right" as possible (if that could ever be done).

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to anyone who finds solace in a good, well written song; one that means something to you ...

WHY?

What sin, what transgression had been committed to justify this? What had they done to deserve this?

He sat on the couch with his head in his hands. Sadness, grief, and the twelve were his only companions. Four of the containers littered the couch while the others waited to be consumed.

The events of the day had been so painful, so horrific that he worried that the 12-pack of Coronas would not be sufficient to dull the pain, to keep reality at bay.

Finishing the fifth bottle he considered its fate. He was nearly drunk by now. The brew had done its job, he was numb. Without a care in the world he threw the bottle against the far wall of the apartment. With the aim of a blind man he missed completely, instead killing his television set.

There he sat looking over the glass covering his usually pristine floor and the smoke and sparks emanating from the appliance he destroyed. Apathy, that's all he had left. Ross simply did not care anymore. The world as he knew it was coming to an end. Nothing at the moment seemed to matter. Would anything ever matter again?

In his drunken state he stared out into space looking for a solution, a way out. There were no solutions in evidence, only ways to cope with the inevitable loss. Coping tools sat all around him. Reaching for the closest, he picked up number six and removed the cap. He wondered. He wasn't sure if he had bought enough medicine that night. He was in no condition to acquire more. Twelve would have to do.

As he slowly drank the latest bottle he heard it, a rustling at the door. He rose from the couch, knocking a few of his empties to the floor. He swayed from side-to-side trying to gain his balance. Turning to his left he moved his body tentatively towards the door. At that moment it opened …

"Ross! Are you alright?" She asked.

He smiled with a wide grin … "I'm fine!"

"Oh my God!" is all she could say as she entered the room, surveying the damage wrought to the apartment.

"Would you like a beer? He asked, turning towards the couch.

Taking off her coat she tossed it onto the chair. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her, embracing him in her arms. She hugged him as hard as she could. Raising herself slightly she lifted her lips up to his ear …

"I'm so sorry."

Two hours later …

Was he dreaming? He wasn't sure. He couldn't see anything. His only sense that worked at the moment was his hearing. It sounded like broken glass …

… and slowly he opened his eyes.

"So you're awake I see." She said as she bent down on the floor in front of him, picking up shards of glass.

Slowly he regained consciousness as his eyes fluttered open. Focusing on the woman bent down before him. He started to remember …

"I'm sorry." Is all he could think to say.

"Ross, it's alright. I've cleaned up the glass off the floor but I'm afraid you killed the TV."

He smiled a little before giggling.

Rising from the floor she moved to the kitchen to dispose of the glass. Returning, she reclined on the couch next to him.

"Ross, I know that I've said it before, but I'm so sorry."

"Phoebe, I'm sorry too."

"Monica called me and told me what happened. I feel so badly for the two of you."

"Phoebe, I wish I could say that it's all going to be OK, but I'm not sure this time. I've never been so unsure of things in my life."

His body, still under the influence, strained for sobriety. He looked at her and asked. He knew that she would have an answer …

"Phoebe, how did you do it?"

"How did I do what, Ross?"

"How did you survive, survive all the adversity that you've had to endure. You lost your mother and father. You lived on the street when you were young. You are separated from your twin sister. How did you endure all of this … and turn out as well as you did?"

She was caught off-guard by his question. No one had ever asked her this before. He needed an answer. He needed something, anything onto which he could believe in and hope for. She didn't know how to answer, except to be a friend …

"Ross, as hard as this is going to get, as hard as it will be for you, you will survive, you will live on. You will learn and grow from this experience. You will lose so much only to gain so much in return."

She had only one more thing to add …

"Ross, remember, you will not be alone."

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The Call ...

Earlier that day …

Having finished his morning classes Ross inexplicably found himself walking home. He had a few hours to kill before his next class. Entering his apartment he removed his coat and made himself some lunch. Sitting on the couch he partook of his meal.

After lunch he quieted himself. The room was silent. He slowed his breathing and closed his eyes. He listened to his own heartbeat. He relaxed his muscles and laid his head back, releasing the stress of life from his body. He tried to dream …

Ross dreamt of what life would be like with healthy parents, a job that he loved and the girl. The stress of his father's health had had a cascade effect on his life. It affected everything about him. His job had held less importance to him then at any other time in his career. He was tired of trying to teach his students a subject that they didn't want to learn and that bored them. The worst thing that he felt was the loss … he had lost the girl. His sadness was tinged with the realization that her leaving was probably for the best. He had little time for anything at the moment, other than his work and his parents.

Relaxation, it was almost completely alien to him. It had been so long since he had known it. He did not realize it but it would be a long time before he would know it again.

The phone rang, destroying his utopia …

"Hello."

"Yes, this is Ross Gellar."

"What? No, you must be mistaken; my father receives his dialysis treatments at your clinic, not my mother."

There was a pause as his new reality soaked in …

"What happened? Is she alright? Where was she transported?" He asked, busily recording the information on a notepad.

"Thank you. I'll head over to the hospital right now."

After calling his office he grabbed his coat and ran to the door, hoping to catch his sister at home.

5 minutes later …

The door opened abruptly, without a knock, slamming into the wall behind it.

Surprised, she turned to see her brother. Without him uttering a word she knew something was wrong. The door, his eyes, she found herself afraid to ask.

"Ross … what's wrong?"

He found it hard to answer. He leaned hard against the door.

"The clinic just called …"

"Oh my God, what … what's wrong with dad?"

"Nothing … nothing's wrong with him."

"Then what's wrong? Why did they call you?"

"It's mom …"

Dressing with lightening speed she ran out the door with her brother in tow, not bothering to close the door.

The Doctor

Ross, Monica my name is Dr. Jordan, I am your mother's general practitioner. From what I was told your mother was complaining of lightheadedness while at the clinic. We've run a number of tests including an EKG and CAT scan and …"

The doctor paused …

"What? What did you find doctor?" Asked Ross.

"The scan indicated a mass growing within your mother's cranium. We ran further tests and called in a specialist, an oncologist to assist. The specialist confirmed that your mother has brain cancer."

There it was again … that most ugly of words, CANCER. As the word left his lips the siblings reacted. Ross's eyes widened significantly, becoming wet and glassy. Monica reacted by lifting her hands to her mouth, gasping. The doctor gave them a few moments for the news to sink in, preparing himself to answer those questions that would inevitably be asked of him …

"What kind of treatment do you recommend to cure her?" Asked Ross.

"I would recommend a highly concentrated regiment of radiation directly aimed at the tumor. I recommend starting her treatment right away. The treatment should be administered once a week for six weeks."

"Doctor, what is my mother's long-term prognosis?" She asked.

The doctor paused again, looking into her eyes.

"Your mother's prognosis is not good. The survival rate for this type of cancer is very low. Typically, a patient with this type of cancer will survive only six to nine months."

Darkness fell upon the pair as they realized that they would soon be without their mother.

The doctor interjected …

"I understand that your father has multiple myeloma and is receiving dialysis. You can take your mother home in a few days. Your parents are really going to need your support."

The Sister

She had always had issues with her mother. Her mother had always favored her brother over her. She found it ironic that with all their problems, that she was devastated by the news, much more so than when she had learned about her father's illness.

Supported by her brother she returned to the waiting room. Ross had called Chandler on the way to the hospital, knowing that his sister would need him. As Chandler saw her he rose from his seat and took her in his arms.

There they sat. She buried her face into his shoulder and cried.

She had not been the perfect mother, but she was the only one she had ever known. She wondered if there was enough time, enough time to talk. Was there enough time to reconcile with her before it was too late?

Then it hit her. The impact was so hard that she withdrew from his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

She lifted her eyes up to his and replied …

"How am I ever going to find the strength to say goodbye?"

At that moment she ran into the room. Spotting Monica she ran to her, and embraced her friend in a warm hug. As she looked up from her shoulder at his face she could see the sadness in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I would have been here sooner but I just found out."

The Best Friend

"Chandler, let's go get some coffee. Come walk with me." He asked.

"Sure Ross. Monica, will you be OK with me leaving you with Rachel?"

Nodding in the affirmative he took his leave. The long-time friends walked slowly down the hall, without saying a word. He wanted to tell him, he just didn't know how. He decided on the direct method …

"She's going to die."

"What, when?" Asked Chandler.

"Mom has brain cancer. The doctor wants to give her radiation treatments but he gave her six to nine months to live."

A pall covered the pair as they entered the cafeteria. Grabbing some coffee they sat at a table.

"Could this coffee BE any worse?" Joked Chandler, trying to break the tension in the air.

Silence, an uncomfortable silence fell over them. Their eyes met. Ross was the first to look away, down at his coffee. His mother was not the only topic that he wanted to discuss.

"Ross, I need to ask you something."

Ross looked up at his friend. He knew what he wanted to talk about.

"Ask her Chandler. She loves you. She needs you."

"How did you know that I was thinking?"

"You told me that you've been waiting for the right time. Monica is devastated right now. She's losing them. She so badly wanted mom and dad at her wedding. She's dreamt of dad walking her down the aisle ever since she was a little girl."

"You don't think this is a little inappropriate?"

"Chandler, we don't have the luxury of time anymore. It's probably too late to give them another grandchild, but I cannot think of a better goodbye gift to give them than their daughter's happiness."

He paused and continued …

"Do you want to marry her?"

"Of course, you know that I do. More than anything … I love her."

"Then ask her. There is nothing more you could do for my parents then to let them know that they are leaving knowing that their little harmonica will be loved and taken care of. Love her Chandler. Take care of her and let her take care of you. Things are going to get very bad before they get better. Monica is going to need you more than anyone."

The Girl

Entering the waiting room Chandler returned to Monica's side. Rachel, realizing that he was alone asked chandler …

"Chandler, where is Ross? Wasn't he with you?"

"Yeah, we walked down to the cafeteria, had some really bad coffee and talked. He said he needed some time to himself so I left him there, alone."

Leaving Monica with her boyfriend she headed out the door and down the hall. Entering the elevator she descended towards the cafeteria. As the doors opened she ran into the eatery, only to find him gone. Exiting, she walked down the hall, looking through any open door. Then it hit her. She stopped. "Where would he be in his state of mind?" she asked herself ...

It came to her. She turned on her heels and retraced her steps. She slowed as she came to the door. She knew the door would be open, it always was. As she entered the room she saw him, sitting in the back with his head turned downward.

"I had a feeling that I would find you here."

"I needed to find a place of solace, I needed to be alone. How's my sister?"

"She's OK, Chandler is taking care of her."

He considered the consequences of telling her. In his condition he did not care …

"Chandler is going to propose …"

"What? Are you serious? Chandler is going to propose to Monica?"

"Chandler asked me if I thought it was a good idea. He's wanted to ask her for a while but with everything that's been going on he never found the right time. I told him that time was up, that she needed him and that my parents would be happy knowing that someone would be taking care of her after they are gone."

He didn't mean or know it but his words were like a knife cutting deep into her heart. She had hurt him and now he needed her, more than ever. As she sat there next to him in utter silence a thought came to her. She needed to talk to him, to tell him about things … and why they had happened.

There they sat, both looking straight at the altar …

"Ross, I need to talk to you."

"What about?" He asked.

"About things. About your family, about us."

"Rachel, I might not be very good company right now but I love to listen to your voice. Talk away …" He said, just looking down at the floor.

"I know that I've said I was sorry about the divorce but I wanted to tell you why I signed the papers."

He looked up, straight ahead and interjected …

"You know Rachel, I was thinking about our divorce today. I've thought about it and I think it was a good idea that you went through with it."

Shocked, but suppressing the urge to show it outwardly, she responded …

"Why? Why do you think it was a good idea?"

"Because with everything that is going on in my life right now, I wouldn't make you a very good husband. I'm having to focus all my energy onto two very sick parents."

She turned to face forward, slightly lowering her head. It was taking everything she had to open up and talk to him. She avoided eye contact at all costs …

"Ross, I wanted to tell you why I signed the papers."

"You don't have to tell me Rachel ..."

"I want to tell you, I really do!"

"Then why did you do it?"

"I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"I was afraid of you. I was afraid of getting hurt again. I was afraid of losing my freedom and committing to someone for the rest of my life."

"You are afraid of me?"

"I was afraid of you. I decided to get help with my fear so I started seeing a psychologist. She's been helping me cope with it. She's told me that fear is perfectly normal. She's provided me with many coping skills that I use to deal it."

"This is interesting … I've been seeing a therapist myself." He replied.

"What? Why?"

He did not want to reveal the truth to her … that she was the main reason why he needed help. He tried to avoid the issue …

"Because of things, you know. My parent's health and all."

"Would our divorce happen to be one of those reasons?" She asked.

He couldn't lie to her …

"Perhaps."

The pair had been sitting there for almost a half-hour. Their eyes returned to the altar of the chapel. Silence again blanketed the pair. After a while she broke the silence …

"Ross, do you remember the mix tapes that you gave me when we were dating?"

"Well, I remember one, no, two tapes I gave you. The first I gave you when we were dating, the second I gave you after we broke up."

"I never listened to the second tape until just this last week. When you originally gave it to me I was so mad at you that I just threw it in my memory box and forgot about it."

"Oh." Is all he could say, not knowing where this was going.

"Then last week I found it and listened to it. The music was so sad."

"It was how I must have felt at the time. To be honest Rachel, I don't remember what songs I put on that tape. It's been like 4 years since our breakup."

He took in a huge breath and sighed. He continued …

"So, you divorced me because you are afraid of me …"

"I WAS afraid of you …"

"OK, you were afraid of me, you are seeing a therapist and you just now listened to the mix tape that I put together to try to get you to reconsider our breakup of 4 years ago."

"Yes."

"Did you like the tape?"

"I did. It made me think."

"Oh, about what?"

"It helped me see how much our breakup effected you, and then of course I breakup with you again 4 years later when we get divorced."

He looked down and pulled a pen from his pocket. Out of his wallet he pulled a small piece of paper. Putting pen to paper he started writing. Every few seconds he would raise his head and look off into some distant direction and wince his eyes, as if trying to remember something …

"What are you doing Ross?" She asked.

"I'm trying to remember the lyrics to a song and write them down."

"Why?" She asked.

"Sometimes music can communicate a message more effectively than the spoken word. I've tried many ways to communicate with you over the years. I've tried music only a few times and it seems to be a good way to try to convey how I feel."

It took him a few more seconds and he was done. He had recorded a simple message and prepared to give it to her.

"Rachel, the most beautiful songs ever written were composed at times of great emotional stress, like when you first fall in love or you breakup. I wanted to tell you that I know how you feel about being scared by me ... because you have scared me more than you will ever know. You scared me when you let it first slip that you had feelings for me. The feelings that I had for you when we were together are the most frightening I have ever had. I was so terrified of you, my feelings for you and how important you had become to me that I made a fatal mistake. I became possessive and destroyed our relationship. I slept with another woman. Fear had won, we had lost. Do you remember months ago when we were on that date and I told you that I wasn't afraid anymore?"

She thought for a moment and replied "yes".

"Well, what I meant to say is that a lot of things still scare me, like losing my parents, but NOT the feelings that I have for you."

He looked down at the paper he held and continued …

"I'm no longer afraid because I found the answer. Here, take this. Whoever wrote this put my feelings into words … they knew the answer too."

She took the paper and hesitated a moment. He looked into her eyes and smiled a bit then turned away to stare at the altar.

Slowly she unfolded the paper and started reading. It was hard, his handwriting was that bad:

Sometimes we make it harder than it is

We'll take a perfect night

And fill it up with words we don't mean

Dark sides best unseen

And we wonder why we're feeling this way.

Sometimes I wonder if we really feel the same

Why we can be unkind

Questioning the strongest of hearts

That's when we must start

Believing in the one thing that has gotten us this far.

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That's what love is for

To help us through it

That's what love is for

Nothing else can do it.

Melt our defenses

Bring us back to our senses

Give us strength to try once more

Baby, that's what love is for.

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Sometimes I see you

And you don't know I am there

And I'm washed away by emotions

I hold deep down inside

Getting stronger with time

It's living through the fire

And holding on we find

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That's what love is for

To help us through it

That's what love is for

Nothing else can do it.

Round off the edges

Talk us down from the ledges

Give us strength to try once more

Baby, that's what love is for.

-

After she finished reading, she took a few moments to compose herself, she was shaken. Her eyes were wet from the emotions she felt.

He knew that she had finished reading the lyrics when she looked up. He would speak before she could …

"Rachel, love is the answer. Love will find a way. It will get Monica and I through the loss of our parents and one day it will make you the happiest girl of earth."

She looked over at him. He returned her gaze. Her eyes started tearing. She paused for a moment before speaking …

"You are wrong, Ross. You are so utterly wrong."

"What, what do you mean? Why am I wrong?"

She slowly leaned over, moving her lips to his. Just before touching she averted her face to one side. She moved her lips up to his ear.

She whispered …

"You are so wrong. You would make an excellent husband! I want you to know that I will be with you through all of this. I will be your strength when you are weak. I will carry you when you are exhausted ..."

She paused for a moment, battling her fear. She wanted to say it, something that she had wanted to declare for a long time. The effort she had expended with her therapist had not been in vain. She was terrified but she just had to say it …

"… and I am so very much in love with you."