AN:I hope people are still reading this. :)
If anyone is wondering, it has been exactly three days since the accident by the time this chapter is over.

Enjoy!

The deep, disarming voice of Ross's doctor ringed in her ears. His sour words, however, echoed through her mind, pulsating at an irregular rate.

"Ms. Green, your boyfriend has suffered a rather serious seizure."

Rachel's heart cringed at recalling the scene.

"A seizure? Didn't those only happen when you looked at flashing lights?"

"There are a number of causes. Mr. Geller's seemed to have stemmed from the trauma following his accident. As you can see on this chart, his brainwaves fluctuate vigorously. This is what's known as a psychogenic non-epileptic seizure."

"And? What the hell does that even mean, doctor?"

"We have reason to believe that he may have slight brain damage, and possibly post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD."

"Oh God… But wait. What about yesterday? He was doing better!"

"That was a marvel; but it may have just been an overproduction of adrenaline due to anesthesia during surgery. Delayed shock, simply put."

"…No…"

"We were able to help him with a heavy dose of doxylamine, a muscle relaxant, which stopped him from flailing. Normally we would have let the seizure run its course, but with his skyrocketing heart rate and the lack of oxygen going to his brain, it was very likely he would have died within minutes without immediate treatment."

It finally dawned on her. He could have died. He could have died and left her forever. The very thought made Rachel scream, rebelling against the tears that terrorized her luminous eyes.

"Rach!" Joey hurried over to her, Carol and Susan in tow.

"Talk to me," Joey implored, focused. "Tell me what's wrong."

Nothing could come out. The memories had clamped their cold hand over her mouth. Only sniffling could be taken in by her friends.

Ross's hand fell from her chest, lifeless without her touch.

Joey understood her cries for help, her cries for him. He held his hand out toward her.

"J-Joey," Rachel's eyes met his, fogged. "He was supposed to be getting better! But now… H-He's slipping away…"

She was pulled into a jubilant embrace, her tears disappearing into Joey's shoulder.

Petting her cinnamon hair, he whispered lovingly. "He'll be fine. I'll make sure of it." Joey shed a tear at Rachel's expense.

In the midst of the sea of mourning, no one had noticed Phoebe gingerly saunter into the room. Walking past Carol and Susan, she wrapped her arms around Joey and Rachel, unsure of the situation before her.

"How're you feeling?"

"I'm sad, obviously, and I'm scared to death." She replied, cynically.

Monica and Chandler strolled through Central Park, pondering on the outcome of the bleak future ahead of them. Was this the feeling Monica felt earlier? She half-expected something bad had happened to Ross, but this hopelessness had consumed her, and sucked the light from her body like a black hole in the void. It was cold and merciless, gripping harder and harder each minute.

"No one will protect me anymore." Monica's words were barren of life.

"That's crazy, Mon. We'll protect you. All of us." Chandler smiled, which almost pushed the death grip of anxiety around her off a cliff. "And when Ross comes back, you'll have him too."

Monica choked up, bittersweet. "I just can't help it, Chandler. What if it was me? At least I wouldn't have to see my brother lie there with tubes in his face!"

Chandler quickly grabbed Monica and held her as tears escaped her sparkling cerulean eyes. What he witnessed at that point was true beauty. He could swim in those oceans, and stare into those perfect skies forever.

His heart racing from the amorous moment, he took a chance. "I'll protect you," Chandler's tone hollowed. "With my life."

"..What?" Monica looked at him, puzzled.

His life?

Chandler realized the gravity of what he just declared. His feelings for her had to be apparent now.

"N-Nothing," He stammered. "Let's get back, shall we?" Chandler's awkwardness took over as he pulled away from Monica. Stunned, she chose to slowly walk side-by-side with Chandler back to the hospital, both perplexed at what had just unfolded.

"I can't believe this," Phoebe gasped, revolted. "He seemed so happy… But it was all a lie?"

"More like denial. That's the gist, though." Carol explained, dismally.

Phoebe kneeled beside Rachel, who had barely noticed her come through the door in the first place.

"Rach, honey, are you ok?" Phoebe frowned in concern.

She nodded in hopes that Phoebe would leave her alone to wallow in a swirl of anger and despair.

"Okay, you can stop lying. I can see right through you, ya know." Phoebe laughed, cracking a smile.

"Ugh," Rachel groaned in misery. "Phoebe, I can't go on. Ross is never going to be the same again, and I don't know if I can live with that." She could feel the anguish crushing whatever positive tone in her words.

"Look at yourself, Rach. Do you think Ross likes to see you in so much pain? Do you think he wants you to feel guilty for what happened?" Phoebe's voice rose.

"Well, no-" Phoebe cut her off.

"You can't feel this way Rachel! You have to be strong. Strong! It's what he needs you to be or else neither of you are ever going to get past this!"

Rachel remained tight-lipped. Phoebe was absolutely correct. She didn't have the willpower to simply 'be strong', however. That was Ross's job. It was all new to her, this responsibility, this affliction, this feeling of helplessness. Nothing truly felt right anymore. The breakup, the accident, their getting back together, what did it all mean? What did it all come down to?

Rachel debated whether to tell Phoebe of her nightmares, knowing that they symbolized more than just guilt. She might just be eccentric enough to understand; but there was nothing she could really about it.

Carol put her arm around Rachel cordially.

"Hon, I think you need some time away from Ross." Carol awaited the lash she would receive.

"What?" Rachel fixated on her with a cold glance.

"I think it would be good for you. When's the last time you've had a good night's sleep, anyway?"

Rachel pondered, and answered sadly. "A couple weeks, I guess."

"See? You need some Rachel time." Susan chuckled, trying to cheer her up.

Of course, they were right. But Rachel could not bring herself to leave Ross's side.

"Susan's right, Rach. You need to stay back so you can have a running start." Phoebe stated, eyes widening at her wit.

"Yeah, and don't worry, we'll keep a close eye on him." Joey smiled, patting her on the arm.

"Thanks, you guys." Rachel smiled, knowing she had no strength to fight her friends. Her spirit was drained yet again.

Rachel listlessly packed up her purse, which held nothing more than her wallet, keys, and the coffee she had made hours earlier. She realized that she had completely forgotten something.

"Carol," Rachel looked up at her. "Do you mind if I take that picture you took of us?"

"Oh, of course not!" Carol reached into her jacket and pulled the photo out, happily handing it to Rachel.

"Picture?" Joey wondered, confused.

Rachel showed the heartwarming scene to Joey and Phoebe, who were speechless at the beautiful sight before them. They gave each other the most exultant smile, ready to burst from cheer.

"Tell Monica and Chandler I'll be at the apartment." Rachel announced, breaking the silence. Joey, Phoebe, Carol, and Susan complied.

Rachel did not look back as she left the room. If she did, her heart would ache with the feeling that she had forsaken Ross, abandoned him.

The air chilled with the breath of winter, despite the sun shining brightly. Streets were busy with people, all of whom had their own troubles, and would never bat an eye to help Rachel with her's. She robotically trudged to the apartment, ignoring the cruel and heartless world that made itself evident that night. She reached the building where she had lived for the past two and a half years, but it felt completely foreign to her. The first step inside brought back a rush of nostalgia, followed by a haunting memory of that day.

No. No! Rachel couldn't think about that now, she needed to forget the pain, the anger, the screaming, and the betrayal. Those did not matter anymore.

Each step proved to be more difficult, more arduous to walk. Intangible hands grabbed her ankles, ready to break her. She needed to be strong, strong enough to fall on the bed that her and Ross proved their love on many times, to bask in his warmth, even if it lasted for only a second. She unlocked the door, pushed open the single barrier to her soul. The air was good. It was familiar. The aroma of flowers and food greatly contrasted the faint smell of bleach and blood that hovered around her in the hospital. The window let the bright rays of passion shine through her home. Rachel was back, and while she was alone, her heart was not. Ross was with her, his arms holding her tightly. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt safe.

There was no need to eat, or even look in the mirror. Rachel wrapped herself in her pink sheets on her soft and comfortable bed, with the thought of Ross holding her as her own antihistamine. Ecstasy flowed through her frail body and the Sandman would soon come to whisk her away into paradise. As she closed her eyes, happiness broke through the wall that was her mind and exorcised the shadows of the man that eclipsed her heart.

Rachel had hope.