Joey ran up the steps to his and Chandler's apartment, cursing himself for forgetting his wallet. How do you forget your wallet? You were halfway to the store and you just realized you forgot your wallet?

Joey walked in to the apartment and called out, "Hey, Chandler! I forgot my wallet so I came back."

There was no response. Maybe Chandler went to sleep early. He's been doing that lately...

Joey had noticed Chandler's funk. The Italian man hoped that what he had planned tonight would cheer the man up.

Hopefully... Joey thought, an uncharacteristic amount of uncertainty in his thoughts. He was going to finally ask Chandler to be with him tonight, well, tomorrow morning. He had the whole day planned out. He was going to decorate the apartment and they were going to spend the day watching all those nerdy movies Chandler loves before he asked him.

But first, he needed his wallet so he could buy the damn supplies for tonight. Where the Hell is it? Is it on my desk?

He started to open the door to his room before he suddenly stopped, seeing a letter taped to his door. It was addressed to him, so he opened it and began to read:

Joey,

I don't really know how to say this, but I'm going to do it in the best way I know how: awkwardly and with lots of fumbles.

You're my best friend, Joey, and you've never let me down. Every single time I see you I see a wonderful man that any woman would be lucky to have. By the way, I hope that girl says yes to you. I'm sorry I won't be there to meet her like I said I would. You can add that to the list of all the times I've lied to you or let you down.

I'm not a good person, Joey, and I know this. I don't deserve to live. I'm the most selfish, self-centered person on the planet and no one should want to ever be around me, which is why I don't really know why you've stayed my friend for so long. You're too good to be tainted by me.

Should I be writing this in the past tense? I don't know how these letters are supposed to work.

Don't be sad for me, Joey. I don't deserve your tears. Whoever this girl is, let her help you through this. Hey, maybe you can bond over it and I'll finally have done something right.

Thank you, Joey, for always being there for me.

Chandler

P.S. Don't open my door. Just call 911 and they'll come get me.

Fear gripped Joey like nothing he'd ever felt in his life. He rushed to Chandler's door, wanting to open it, but he thought rationally for just a split second and ran to Monica and Rachel's door.

With tears flowing and his voice quaking, he banged on the door as loud as he could and screamed, "Monica, Rachel, somebody! Fuck, please, call 911!"

Monica, with Rachel hot on her heels, was at the door at the sound of Joey's voice and opened it with a worried expression on her features. "Joey?"

But Joey was already running back to his apartment. He opened Chandler's door, expecting the worst, but the man wasn't in there. He ran out of Chandler's room and saw that the bathroom door was cracked and the light was on. No, please...

He opened the door carefully in case Chandler was behind it and what he saw crushed him to his very soul.

There on the tile floor was Chandler, clutching a pill bottle in his unmoving hand. He sank to his knees, his legs unable to support him anymore, and crawled over to Chandler. He lifted his lifeless form into his arms as sobs wreaked havoc through his entire body.

By now, the entire floor was surrounding their apartments wondering what the noise was all about. Rachel ran towards Joey's anguished cries, wondering what had Joey in such a state and needing more information to tell the cops, but when she saw Joey clutching Chandler like it would bring him back, she screamed Chandler's name in such a bloodcurdling manner that everyone within hearing distance shuddered.

Monica, however, was decidedly calmer. Now was not the time to panic. She had to stay strong for her friends. That didn't mean she wasn't crying profusely. "Ma'am? What has happened?" The emergency operator asked.

She gave them Joey's address. "P-please... Hurry. My friend, Chandler, he's... suicide... I don't know what to do!"

The operator put two and two together. "Check for a pulse. If he's still alive there's a chance he could still live. I'm calling for paramedics now. What's your location?"

But Monica had already put the phone down and ran to the other apartment, yelling at Joey to check for a pulse. With shaking hands that he forced to still, he moved Chandler's neck to feel for a beat.

Joey sobbed in relief when he felt the faint flutter of his heart. "Mon, it's there, it's there. It's not all the way there, but it's there."

Monica ran back to her apartment to the phone. She yelled an address into the phone before screaming, "There's a pulse!"

"Good. Stay on the line with me. The paramedics will be there in less than two minutes."

The paramedics actually arrived in one minute and two seconds. Monica counted. She hung up with the operator when she heard Joey fighting with the paramedics to let go of Chandler.

She marched over to their apartment with a murderous glare in her bloodshot eyes. "Joseph Tribbiani, if you don't hand him to the paramedics and he dies because of it I will never forgive you!"

Joey let Chandler go – albeit reluctantly – to the paramedics and they rushed him to the hospital. Monica immediately began barking orders. "Rachel, call Phoebe and Ross. I'll call Richard. Joey, go the hospital and learn everything you can about his condition and call me if anything changes, you got it?"

Joey nodded and headed out the door while Rachel pulled out a cell phone.

Within twenty minutes Phoebe, Mike, Rachel, Ross, Monica, Richard, and Joey were all in the hospital waiting on any news about Chandler. Everyone but Joey was sitting silence. Joey couldn't just sit and wait. He had to do what he did best. Make a fuss and don't give up until you make it. He had gotten a lot of acting gigs that way. Maybe his skill could help Chandler get better faster. He was yelling at nurses every hour on the hour to tell him everything they knew about his best friend. They were surprisingly patient and kind even though Joey wasn't giving them the same respect. They must have understood what he was going through.

While Joey stared at the clock, Monica walked up to him. "Joey... I'm... I'm sorry about what I said at the apartment. I didn't mean to yell at you like that, I just..." Her voice broke a little at the end, but she held strong to her composure.

Joey nodded. "I know, Monica. I would have said the same thing. I don't think I would forgive me either."

"Do you think he'll be okay?" She asked after a period of silence.

Joey watched down the hall as a doctor came directly towards them. "I'm not sure, but I'm sure we'll find out here in a second."

The doctor walked straight towards Joey. "Your friend is responding well to the treatment. We have pumped his stomach and have him on a ventilator; if he wakes up we'll take him off of it."

"What do you mean, 'if he wakes up?' He's going to wake up." Joey said leaving no room for interpretation.

The doctor eyed Joey with sympathy. "It is common for patients similar to your friend's condition to slip into a coma. These next few days will be crucial for your friend's recovery. Your friend took a significant dosage of sleeping pills. He took three times the amount that would have killed anyone else. So far, everything looks normal, which should be impossible with the amount of pills he took, but we've ran the tests several times. It's truly a miracle that your friend has survived as long as he has."

"Doc, can you give me a real answer? Give me something, anything. It doesn't have to be medical. Just something." Joey begged.

"Well, if I'm speaking frankly and not as a doctor, I would say that if your friend keeps going the way he's going, he'll pull through with no problem.

"But as a doctor, I'm here to tell you to be skeptical. He could slip at any time. We won't know anything concrete until he either wakes up or slips into a coma."

Joey nodded solemnly and shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you."

Monica ran back to tell the gang the good news. Joey could see the small amount of relief washing over them, but Joey couldn't even share that small amount with them. He wouldn't feel that relief until he saw with his own eyes that Chandler would be okay.

Three days went by before Chandler woke up. They weren't allowed to see him until he woke, but they all stayed around the hospital, waiting for any change in his condition.

Joey was there when he woke up. The doctors rushed to his room to get the tubes out of his throat, but after that, Joey was almost immediately able to see him. When the doctors gave him the go-ahead he ran as fast as he could to the room number he was given.

Joey stood in the doorway, frozen as they locked eyes. Joey could see the pain and anguish in his eyes and, to his horror, that same look had been in his eyes for several months and no one had noticed.

Joey walked silently in to sit by Chandler. He didn't say a word; neither did Chandler. All he did was hold a cup of water with a straw to Chandler's lips so he could drink.

Chandler, never one for silence, was going to say something, but Joey stopped him. "Don't. Just, please. Let me enjoy the fact that you're alive right now, okay? I know it's selfish, but I... I need this."

Chandler nodded and stayed silent. He watched Joey with terrified eyes, waiting for the man to say something, anything, but the silence dragged on.

About five more minutes passed before Joey said anything. "When I saw you on the floor, Chandler, I thought I had lost you forever. I've never been so scared in my life. I saw you and I... I couldn't stand. I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to let you go."

Joey looked straight into his closest friend's eyes before saying, "Chandler, I'm begging you, I'm pleading with you, please, don't ever do that again. If not for you, then for me or any of our friends. I don't care who it is, just stay alive."

Chandler looked away. He knew he didn't deserve to live, so why was Joey fighting him on this?

"I discussed with the doctors about the conditions of you leaving the hospital. They want to keep you in a suicide watch ward, but I'm pretty sure you'd go crazy, so I convinced the doctor to let you come home, but they're clearing out the apartment as we speak. No knives, no razors, no medicine. You can shave, but you have to ask me first. Otherwise, everything is going to be locked up. Monica agreed to hide them wherever she hides her Christmas presents so don't bother looking. The doctor said that if you try to... if you try to do that again, he'll take you from the apartment and send you to the ward."

Chandler nodded. He was officially on suicide watch.

"And Chandler?" Joey started. "You don't believe me now, but I'm going to help you find your will to live. I don't know what I'd do without you, so I'm not going to give up, okay?"

Chandler stared at Joey with wide eyes. Joey was doing all of this for him? "Why?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Joey looked at him in astonishment. "Isn't it obvious? Chandler, I... I love"-

Just then, the entire group ran into the room, tears in their eyes. Phoebe was the first to reach him, but Chandler felt a sudden painful twinge on the side of his arm where she had hit him. "Don't you do that again, Chandler Bing!" She sobbed. "You can't do that! I won't allow it! If you had died..." She collapsed on top of him, sobbing and hugging him profusely while Mike went over and attempted to pull her away.

Monica and Rachel were decidedly a little calmer, but they nodded their heads to what Phoebe was saying.

Chandler was astonished by their actions. He did not expect there to be this many tears. He didn't want them to be sad. He knew they would be sad, but not this. He chewed on his bottom lip to keep from making their tears worse. He was sure that if he said anything, they would just get more upset. He didn't want that.

Soon enough, the doctor came in and explained the situation. "I'll be keeping you for one more night, but if your vitals remain where they are you should be able to go home.

"Now, Mr. Bing, we have organized with your employer that you will receive paid leave under the stipulation that you go to therapy twice a week." Chandler glared at this, but let the doctor continue. "It can be any method of therapy you desire. You can do one-on-one, group therapy, or a special arrangement can be made where you can bring someone you're comfortable with, whatever you decide."

Chandler didn't like to be put on the spot, but he agreed to the one-on-one session. No need for someone else to hear my pointless problems...

The doctor nodded and gave him a business card with the days he would be seeing the therapist. Chandler sighed, defeated. Now I'm going to a shrink. How crazy can I get?

Joey heard the sigh and quickly spoke. "You're not crazy, Chandler. The therapist can help you."

Chandler looked at Joey skeptically. "You know, everyone jokes about Phoebe being psychic, but are we all sure that it's not you?"

Joey chuckled. "I'm not psychic, Chandler. I just know you too well." Apparently not enough if you can't even tell when he's so depressed that he was willing to kill himself.

Chandler nodded. Everyone stayed for several hours until they were forced to leave. Joey stared at Chandler worriedly, and the man huffed. "You can go home, Joey. Look, I'm not gonna kill myself tonight. They have me in restraints, see?" Chandler lifted his arms for emphasis, thought he couldn't raise them very far due to said restraints.

That statement worried Joey. It made him wonder if Chandler would try to kill himself if he weren't in restraints, making him want to stay even more. "But..."

"Joey, go home before they kick you out and I never get to see you because they banned you from the hospital."

Joey nodded solemnly, but before he left he walked over to Chandler and kissed his forehead. "Wh-wha...?" Chandler said stupidly.

Joey smiled softly. "It's to give you something else to think about tonight. Goodnight, Chandler."

Then, just like that, Joey left. "What?!" Chandler finally yelled down at Joey's retreating form. "You cannot leave, Joey! You cannot leave without some sort of explanation!" He could see Joey's shoulders moving, signaling his soft laughter as he walked away. "Don't you laugh at me! Get back here and give me a Goddamn explanation you asshole!"

"Goodnight, Chandler!" Joey shouted before he turned down a hallway and out of eyesight.

Chandler glared at the spot he was standing in, muttering something about stupid Italians. Chandler laid in his bed, absentmindedly pulling at his restraints as he unknowingly did exactly what Joey said he would do: think about something else.

Joey kissed me. Joey kissed me. His thoughts didn't leave that phrase for a while before the first question entered his mind. Why?

Maybe he feels bad for me and wants to get with me out of pity. Chandler shook his head. That doesn't make sense. Joey's not gay. If I was a girl, that would make sense, but I'm obviously a guy so...

Chandler furrowed his brow in confusion. Maybe he did it to spur unnecessary thoughts so I would stop thinking about suicide and think of something else? Chandler shook his head at that as well. No, he could have done anything else. A kiss is a little extreme.

That left only one feasible option in Chandler's mind. Maybe he actually does like me? Chandler actually laughed at that. Yeah, right. Joey could never like me. I mean, he's... he's Joey, for Christ's sake! Why would he want someone like me? I mean, I'm annoying, unattractive, self-centered, insecure, and now suicidal on top of that...

Joey's so kind. He's fun and carefree. He's naïve, but not so much that it shrouds his senses. He knows when to be serious and when he doesn't have to be. And, when you really get to know him, he's surprisingly smart. Maybe not book smart, but a different kind of smart. He may not be able to tell you the difference between 'steak' and 'stake,' but he can make you see life in a whole new light with the experiences he's had and advice that he gives.

Chandler gave this a lot of thought, suddenly seeing that Joey, despite everything, might actually want him. There's no other reason he would kiss me, even if it was on the forehead. Either I'm missing something or he really does want to be with me.

He might just want sex, a darker part of Chandler thought. He's never wanted a relationship before. Why now, and with you of all people?

Chandler shook that thought off. If he wanted sex, he would go to anyone else, not the mentally unstable best friend.

As exhaustion hit Chandler and his eyes drifted closed, he wondered briefly if Joey would ever want to be with him. For the first time in months, Chandler fell asleep smiling.

Though he fell asleep with a smile, his dreams did not return the favor, and a nightmare plagued his slumber.

He was in the apartment with Joey and they were enjoying themselves while watching a movie, then Joey suddenly disappeared and Chandler felt cold. The dream shifted and he couldn't breathe, so he fell to the floor. Someone reached a hand to help him up and he gripped it, but he saw that it was himself. This Chandler had white eyes and was cold to the touch. His lips were blue and his skin was pale with the touch of death. "It doesn't matter if he loves you. He'll leave you and you'll come back to me. Just embrace me and your pain will end."

Then Chandler nodded and he closed his eyes. Right before what he guessed was the dead version of himself could kiss him, he heard a voice, yelling at him. Opening his eyes he saw that Joey was gripping his shoulders and shaking him. "Chandler! Don't do this. Wake up!"

Chandler was confused. "Wake up? What are you talking about?"

"Chandler! Breathe! Wake up!"

Then, all of a sudden, Chandler sat up in bed and gasped as he took in a large breath of air. He turned and saw very frightened Joey standing next to several nurses. "J-Joey?" He panted. "What... happened?"

Joey sighed a relieved breath, standing back to let the nurses check Chandler's vitals. "You... you stopped breathing. You looked terrified, too, like you were trapped in whatever you were dreaming about. The doctors were about to stick more tubes down your throat."

Chandler shuddered but nodded. When the nurses determined that Chandler was okay and that it was just some kind of active dream, they left. Joey looked like he wanted to ask what his dream was about, but he didn't and Chandler was thankful for that. He pulled his knees to his chest, then realized that he wasn't restrained anymore. Upon his confusion, Joey explained, "I couldn't stand seeing you tied up like a prisoner. It didn't feel right..."

Chandler nodded again. "Are we allowed to go?" He asked, itching absentmindedly at the hospital gown he was wearing.

Joey nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! I got all the paperwork sorted out for you. Apparently you put me as your power of attorney. The doctors don't think you're..." Joey trailed off, not sure how to correctly word his sentence without sounding offensive.

"They don't think I'm mentally stable enough to make solid decisions for my health?" Chandler finished for him with a sad smile.

Joey blushed and looked away. "Y-yeah... I'm sorry..."

Chandler waved a hand. "I'm probably not right in the head in the medical sense. I did try to kill myself, probably would do it again if given the chance, but that's neither here nor there."

"Chandler..."

Chandler winced at the pained look on Joey's face, but he continued. "Just stating the truth, Joe. You're dealing with a real basket case, here," he said, gesturing to himself.

Joey pulled up a chair and sat next to Chandler, cupping his cheek with one of his hands. With the other, he took Chandler's hand with the I.V. coming out of it, gently rubbing over the inserted needle. Chandler blushed at the gentle gesture, looking at Joey with wide eyes. "I'll just have to find a way to fix you, huh?"

Chandler blushed harder at the statement, then stammered out, "W-well... I-I'm not s-sure you can d-do that s-so easily... L-look at the e-entertainment c-center..." He said, remembering the time Joey had sawed his door in half from trying to build their entertainment center. He smiled, but pointedly looked down at his white bedsheets.

Joey chuckled at his friend's sudden stutter. He found it endearing, despite what they were talking about. Joey lifted Chandler's hand and kissed the spot where the needle entered his skin, making Chandler suck in a breath. "I'll go get a doctor so we can get these needles out, okay?"

Chandler just stared at Joey dumbly, making the Italian man chuckle again before standing up and walking out to grab the doctor.

As they walked out, Chandler had a frown on his face as he listened to the doctor. "Now, remember. You have to go to therapy twice a week, or you won't get your paycheck. I've already set up the first appointment with the psychiatrist, but the rest will have to be done by you, Mr. Bing."
"Do I have to go to therapy? I already know I'm crazy, so can't you just give me my crazy meds and let me be on my way?" Chandler grumbled.

Instead of the doctor, Joey answered. "Chan, you're going to therapy whether you like it or not. I'll drag you there if I have to."

Chandler glared at his... what were they now? Boyfriends? Friends with benefits? Friends who sometimes shared affectionate moments? Chandler would have to come back to this. "Hey, you're not the one who has to go. You're not the one that has to go sit in a room with some random person that you don't know and talk about your problems that you don't need resolved!"

"And that is exactly why you're going to therapy, Chandler."

Chandler's glare deepened, but then he got an idea. "Hey, Doc. You said earlier that I could have a special therapy session with someone who I trust in the room, right?"

The doctor, knowing what Chandler was trying to do, said, "Yes, but you will still be the primary focus of the session. Your friend here won't be asked to do or say anything unless it would benefit you."

Chandler nodded. "Give me that guy's business card. I'll talk to him."

The doctor pulled out a business card from his coat. Regardless of his patient's reasoning, having Mr. Tribbiani in the room with him might be more beneficial than Mr. Bing would originally think. "You'll have to attend your first few sessions with the one-on-one psychiatrist due to time constraints, but we'll get you in with the other one as soon as we can, alright, Mr. Bing?"

Chandler nodded, grinning at Joey like he had won a battle against him. Personally, Joey was happy that Chandler would allow him in such a private session. He knew Chandler thought he was getting back at Joey for taunting him by forcing him to go through therapy with him, but Joey still appreciated the gesture.

As the doctor waved them off, Joey drove them home. He didn't say anything to Chandler, but this would be Joey's first time home since he found Chandler on the bathroom floor. He just couldn't bring himself to sleep in the apartment when his best friend and possibly the love of his life almost died in that very place.

Chandler looked around the apartment and suddenly felt very awkward. Not knowing what to say, his mind jumped for ideas and landed on 'morbid humor.' "Huh," he began, "I never thought I'd come back here."

Joey turned and glared heavily at Chandler. "Chandler, please don't say things like that," he said in a small voice that defied the glare he was giving the man. "It kills me every time you do."

"Well, maybe you need to learn to deal with it." He grumbled.

When Joey's expression turned sad, Chandler braced himself for what came out of his mouth next. "You're not the one had to find his best friend..."

It was barely a whisper, but Chandler heard it and he suddenly felt immensely guilty. "Joe, I'm sorry... I don't know why I'm being so pissy and taking it out on you. I'm sorry."

Joey nodded in understanding. The doctor explained to him while Chandler was unconscious the symptoms of severe depression, one of which was sudden anger. "It's fine, Chandler."

They stood awkwardly around each other for a moment before Chandler blurted out, "What was that kiss about last night?"

Chandler blushed and Joey chuckled. With a grin, he asked, "Did it bug you?"
"Yes," Chandler answered. "Now answer me."
Joey stood closer to Chandler, gripping the man's hips and pulling him close against his chest. Chandler, not sure of what to do with his hands – or anything, for that matter – just balled them up in the lapels of Joey's jacket. Joey leaned close, just close enough so that his breath was ghosting over Chandler's lips. In a deep voice, he whispered, "Maybe this will answer your question."

Then he sealed his lips over the other man's.

Chandler didn't respond right away due to sudden shock, but soon came to his senses and started returning the kiss. He found himself letting Joey lead, finding the lack of control surprisingly arousing. Did he mention that Joey was the best kisser?

Fuck, Joey thought. Chandler was a mind-blowing kisser. It started off slow with Joey taking the lead, then, when he had Chandler backed against their front door with his hands pinned above his head, the little gasp Chandler made allowed Joey to plunge deeper into his mouth, which made the brunet moan against the Italian's lips, and therefore remove any semblance of the word 'slow.'

When they finally pulled apart for air, Joey rested his forehead against Chandler's own, but not before placing a soft kiss to it. Chandler was flushed practically from head to toe, and the endearing gesture only made his face hotter. Joey looked at Chandler for a moment, taking in his slightly disheveled look. His eyes were half-lidded and he was biting his bottom lip, trying to gain back some personal restraint. He looked like he could barely stand on his own legs. Joey still had both of Chandler's small wrists pinned with one hand above his head. "Jesus, Chandler, if you could see yourself right now..."

Chandler looked at Joey in a bit of shock at the sudden lust-filled statement. Joey really wanted him. He could see that much in his eyes and the way his tongue darted out slightly to taste the remnants of Chandler that still lingered on his lips.

Then, of course Chandler had to ruin the moment by letting his insecurities overtake what was right in front of him. Joey could do so much better than me. He may want me now, but I'll hurt him somehow. I just know it.

Joey, not knowing what was going through Chandler's head but recognizing a look of pain, asked, "Chandler? What's wrong? Was this okay? Did I go too far?"

Chandler just stared at Joey like a deer caught in headlights. "Joey, no. It... It was great. Wonderful. Perfect. Just..." He chewed on his bottom lip, not wanting to share his stupid insecurities with Joey. He didn't need to hear his problems.

"Chandler, talk to me. Don't close up shop on me now."
Chandler tried to battle it; Joey could see the battle go across his features. He tried to tell Joey the truth, but his fear won and he clammed up. He just put on a smile and said, "I don't know if this is gonna work, Joe."

Joey, looking severely hurt but trying to hide it, dropped Chandler's wrists. "Okay..." He breathed.

Chandler saw the look of hurt across his best friend's features. It's for the best, Chandler thought, though he was intensely miserable. In an effort to get away from his friend and the pain he'd caused, he ran to his room, shutting the door behind him. He tried to lock it, but saw that the lock had been removed by the people who had come to their apartment earlier. Right... Suicide watch...

So, Chandler sat in his room until nightfall. He didn't bother to come out for lunch, but knew Joey would get mad if he didn't at least eat dinner, so he came out of the room when he smelled Joey cooking.

Joey served Chandler in silence. He wasn't angry with Chandler. He just didn't know what to say. He had given it some thought and found that maybe Chandler didn't like him that way.

If he didn't like you that way, part of his brain supplied, then he wouldn't have responded like that to your kiss.

After dinner, Chandler got up from the counter and, with a mumbled goodnight, turned to his room.

Don't let him walk away, Joey thought. Don't let him go without knowing how he really feels. "Chandler, wait." Joey called.

Chandler turned and was surprised to see Joey right behind him. "Joey..."

Joey pressed a hand to his cheek. "You were lying when you said it wasn't going to work. I know you were. Chandler, tell me what's wrong. Let me prove to you that your fears are baseless."

Chandler blushed. No one had ever tried so hard for him. Trying to joke and abort, he nervously said, "Where did you learn 'baseless,' Joey? Good vocabulary!" At Joey's 'I'm not taking your bullshit' look, Chandler sighed. "I..." He bit his bottom lip. God, Joey just wanted to kiss him when he did that. He wanted to kiss his worries away. He wondered briefly if Chandler would bite his lip during sex. Jesus, that's inappropriate for the current situation... Joey mentally scolded himself.

"Chandler, if you don't tell me, I can't reassure you that, for once, you're wrong."

Chandler opened the door behind him, and Joey thought he was retreating at first, but when the brunet asked, "Are you coming?" Joey took the hint.

They both sat on Chandler's bed. Joey sat with his feet hanging off the edge while Chandler sat cross-legged and facing Joey. "I'm sorry... For lying," he started. "I just... Sometimes I allow my insecurities to override reason." Joey could see that Chandler was uncomfortable. He kept looking everywhere but Joey. When his breath started picking up to the point of hyperventilation, Joey gripped the sides of Chandler's face with both hands and forced him to look at him. When his eyes shifted downward, Joey's calm voice rang through his panicked haze. "Chandler, look at me." His eyes moved to Joey's immediately at the command. Though he could barely breathe, he stared at Joey and clung to his every word. "You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready, but hear me out for minute.

"If you don't want to be with me, that's fine, but don't make that choice because you think there's something wrong with you. Don't ever think that there is something wrong with you. Something I've learned in my experiences is that there's a difference between a wrong and a problem. You see, wrongs are permanent; they stay like that forever. A problem can be fixed. Having a problem just means that something needs to be changed.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Chandler Bing. You have a problem. And hey," Joey smiled softly. "I'm here to help you fix that problem. You just gotta give me a chance and let me hear what's going on in that head of yours. You're so smart, Chandler. You're a million times smarter than me, but even the smart ones can be a little thick-headed."

So focused on his words, Chandler hadn't realized his breathing was slowing down. Without realizing it right away, he began to tell Joey how he really felt, something he hadn't done with anyone in a long time. "I'll screw it up, Joey. You can do so much better than me. I don't know how I'll do it, but I'll break your heart and then where will we be?"

Joey turned to face Chandler on the bed, knowing that he had to be careful with his next words. Chandler had finally opened up to him and now was definitely not the time to screw it up. "Chandler, there are only two ways you could possibly do that. The first one I know you would never do; you're too kindhearted and sincere to cheat on me."

Chandler blushed at the compliment, though it clashed with his own views of himself. "What's the second one?"

Joey didn't hesitate to answer. "Just don't go dying before I do."

Chandler understood what Joey actually meant. As he processed what Joey's real intentions were with that statement, he came to a frightening answer. He didn't want to break Joey's heart, but in the dark recesses of his mind, he still felt like he didn't deserve to live. Regardless of how much he cared for Joey, regardless of how much he didn't want to hurt him, he was still fucked up enough to still want to kill himself. It occurred to Chandler in that moment that something was really wrong with him, but then Joey's words rang in his mind. There is nothing wrong with you. You have a problem. Chandler sighed, taking Joey's words to heart. My problem can be fixed. He told himself. Careful with his next words so that he used Joey's terminology, he said, "Joey, I have a problem, don't I?"

"Where'd your thoughts go?" Joey asked, softly caressing Chandler's bottom lip with his thumb.

"I don't want to hurt you," Chandler explained. "But I... I'm not sure if I can keep that second promise. I still don't feel like I deserve..." Chandler trailed off, his breathing getting heavy again.

Again, Joey forced Chandler face him. "Chandler, look at me." Again, Chandler looked him in the eyes. Joey had a strange, calming effect on him. "I know what you were going to say. You don't feel like you deserve to live." Chandler's breath came out in short puffs, but he nodded. Joey continued. "You would be right, then. You have a problem. But I'm going to change your mind, Chandler. I'm going to give you a reason to live. I'm not sure how I'm going to do it yet, but I'm going to or I'm going to die trying."

Chandler nodded, his breath evening out at Joey's determination. The brunet stared at the clock next to his bedside and said, "Wow, we talked for a long time. You don't think we're going soft, do you?"

Joey, recognizing that Chandler was done sharing for the night, chuckled and said, "Yeah, it is getting late." Joey stood up from the bed, but not before pulling Chandler into a sweet kiss. It was filled with an underlying emotion that Chandler couldn't quite read. It was almost a mix between desperation and a plea. "Goodnight, Chandler."

Joey, being the gentleman that he was, then left Chandler in his room for the night.

Chandler, after slowly processing everything that had happened that night, got up and went to his dresser to pull out some pajamas. His clothes were surprisingly well-folded and he knew neither Joey nor the nurses would have done this. Monica, he thought with a smile.

He started to change, absentmindedly scratching at the scar where his third nipple used to be. He got a pair of old sweatpants that he had borrowed from Joey a long time ago and put them on. Joey was always larger than him, so he had to pull the drawstring all the way because the sweatpants wouldn't fit otherwise.

Crawling into bed, he laid down and almost immediately fell asleep with a certain Tribbiani on his mind.