Days had passed, and now Rachel Green was out of the hospital, much to the doctor's protests to examine her 'like a common lab rat' as her mother had put it, to monitor her flashbacks, and how she had woken from her two year rest.
Her mother had put up a fight, and the doctors eventually gave up, thanks to her donation to the intensive care ward where Rachel had stayed, and her threatening of having them closed down for 'false imprisonment'. If it wasn't for Molly's millionaire status, Rachel might not have been walking down the runway with he rmother to catch a two-seater plane of Molly's close friend Pablo, a spanish waiter and Pilates instructer. First class plane, of course.
"I still don't see why you feel you must do this, Rachel." Molly complained as she clacked down the runway in her Prada heels. Rachel was close behind her, examining her newly manicured nails.
"Because, Mommy, I need to find my friends, like in the dream. I need to find Ross, I need to find Monica, I need to find everybody."
"Well, I suppose if you truly get stuck with finances you could write a book about your 'traumatic coma experience.'" Molly suggested, ignoring Rachel's answer. "Well, this is your plane!" Molly stopped and looked at her daughter. She realised just how grown up she had become. A sudden rush of emotion overwhelmed her and she hugged Rachel tightly.
"Make sure you be careful sweetie." Molly warned her daughter.
"I will!" Rachel called as she stepped into the first class plane her mother had especially arranged for her. "Bye!"
"Goodbye darling!" Molly called as the plane swept into the air. "Good luck!"
So, Rachel's on her way to New York...R&R!