"Ross! Ross!" She screamed, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. The hallway became darker and darker with each breath, and the floor cracked underneath her with every step, ready to plunge her into the abyss. Running to or from, it did not matter. She needed to find him, to see him for one last time before the darkness claimed her as a trophy.

From the moment Rachel had fallen into slumber, she was running. The cumbersome weight of guilt tugged at her skin, and the silence deafened her once again. The faster she ran, the faster oblivion had chased her. These halls she sprinted through, what could they be? The hospital?

The walls quickly began lining with ice, becoming thicker and thicker the farther she reached. It became evident that Rachel was trying to be stopped. Turning around was not an option, as whatever was behind her would easily envelop her. The air shifted frigidly and one by one, her senses failed. All seemed lost.

No, she had to push through. She had no choice.

Rachel's body shivered in the night, tossing and turning every which way. Her hair matted to the pillow, and the sheets clung to her soft, supple skin like velvet on a cushion. It was a battle to behold, and the side that was losing had yet to be determined.

The frozen halls met, shutting her out of freedom. As she raised a hand to touch the ice, a white feather fell into view as it gently descended to the ground. Rachel noticed the heat protruding from it as it hovered toward the cold floor. It felt orgasmic as the warmth grazed the surface of skin, like letting a bird out of its cage. Following the first, another feather fell before her, giving her the same feeling. Rachel lifted her head to see her reflection in the steel-like crystals, a steady trail of white feathers plummeting into the chasm that opened beneath her. It did not occur to Rachel as to why she did not fall in herself. The one thing that did draw her attention was her reflection, as a glowing and lustrous silhouette stepped from the shadows behind her. His head lay upon her shoulder, his arms seizing her from the ever growing darkness.

Rachel knew that touch; it was Ross.

As he shielded her from the shade that threatened to swallow them, the stream of feathers fell faster, piling up into a mountain under their feet. Their hearts began beating in sync, releasing a shockwave that slowly pushed everything back. As Ross pecked Rachel lightly on the cheek, he stared into the glassy ice in front of them. Once her eyes met his, the impasse began to collapse, crumbling with a distinct hiss; the ice began melting, and light had finally returned, illuminating the end of the once endless halls. Their reflection disappeared into the light ahead, but not before Rachel noticed the angelic wings that sprouted from behind her. Ross surrendered his beloved as she walked into the light. He knew it was safe now.

"Ross?" Rachel's eyes shot open, blurred.

She blinked several times to regain focus, and caught the familiar pink walls that she had grown to love. Straying to the clock in front of her, the red digital numbers read 5:56 a.m. Right next to that was her favorite picture, her and Ross at the Museum of Natural History. He was dusting her with a fossil brush, and they were standing together, just like in her dream. It made her smile uncontrollably. Placing her hand on the glass, she ran her thumb over his handsome and perfect face.

Now, however, it was time to make room for a new picture.

Chandler paced the living room of his apartment, wondering about the situation. Were things going to get weird between them now? Did she like him back? How was Ross going to react? He was still in awe at the mettle he had at the park yesterday.

"I'll protect you. With my life."

How could he have said that to Monica? That look on her beautiful tear-stained face, grilling him, waiting for an answer. Despite the confusion and sadness in her eyes, she was so beautiful, and he was in too much shock to reply. He simply dodged her flummox and decided to walk back to the hospital, so that their friends could cut the tension.

Perhaps he should have taken advantage of her; then he wouldn't have this malfeasance hovering above him. But he could not do this to her, or to Ross. No, he respected them too much to act on his feelings.

A door chirred open, and Chandler eyes shot up, revealing a very tired Joey.

"Dude, did you sleep at all?" Joey asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Not rea- dude, put on some pants!" Chandler covered his eyes with his arm, fully awake now.

Joey quickly ran inside to put on sweatpants, and walked back out embarrassed like usual.

Chandler sighed. "As I was saying, I didn't really sleep that much." He looked up at Joey, stunned.

Joey's nodded his head in assurance. "Ross?"

"Yeah. Monica too." Chandler scuffed the floor, ashamed.

"What?" Joey queried.

"I think she knows, man." Paranoia filled his voice.

Joey was taken aback by Chandler's statement. "What? How?"

"Yesterday, after I followed her, she said something about no one could protect her or something, and I said I'd protect her with my life." His tone ripened into sadness.

"Dude, you never say that to a woman!" Joey exclaimed, matter-of-factly.

Chandler groaned. "I know, I know, but I did and now I don't know how she's taking it!"

Joey raised his hands in defense. "Alright, just calm down. She stayed at the hospital last night, right? She probably forgot by now."

"But-"

Their conversation was interrupted by a knocking at the door, which Chandler promptly opened, revealing Rachel in a bathrobe, arms crossed.

Chandler looked at her, unable to decipher her expression.. "What's up, Rach?"

Rachel strolled in, weary. "Have you guys seen Monica?"

"She stayed with Phoebe at the hospital." Joey replied on Chandler's behalf. "And Phoebe decided to stay after Carol and Susan left."

"Are you guys going today?" Rachel sat down on the recliner, turning it around to face them.

Chandler hastily responded. "I gotta work, unfortunately."

Joey glared at Chandler, knowing that was a lie. He turned back to Rachel. "I'm not sure yet."

"Okay, 'cause I don't know whether I want to or not." She said with indecision.
"You heard what Pheebs said, Rach. You should stay home for a couple more days." Joey sat on the arm of the chair, putting his arm around her.

Rachel laid her head on Joey's waist. "I guess you're right."

"I'll stay with you then." Joey stated, rubbing her arm.

"Thanks, honey." Rachel sighed, unsure of her own feelings.

Chandler decided to dress up in work attire, acting like he was heading to his job.

"Alright kids, I gotta head off." Kissing Rachel on the cheek and nodding at Joey, who was still suspicious, he left.

"That reminds me," Rachel picked up the phone. "I need to call into work."

"I'll make breakfast." Joey headed towards the fridge, his haven.

"Hi, Joanna? It's Rachel-" She was instantly interrupted.

"Where the hell have you been? Your load is piling up and Sophie can't do her work, let alone yours!" Joanna's blood was boiling.

Rachel attempted to speak, to no avail. "Joanna-"

Joanna's shouting turned into a scream. "If you are not here in one hour you are fired!"

"Plea-"

The call was cut.

"What was that?" Joey asked, worried.

"I have to go to work," Rachel's tone softened. "Or else I'm fired."

Joey gave a look of quiet distress. "Maybe you should go, Rach. Might take your mind off of you-know-who."

Rachel groaned, unable to protest.

"I'll head to the hospital then." Joey said affirmatively.

Rachel showered and dressed up as fast as possible in her gray suit, nearly bringing her entire closet down on her. Slipping into her black pumps that Ross had bought for her, she swiftly made her way into Bloomingdales, avoiding Joanna like the plague.

"You were this close to getting fired." Sophie whispered, making the measurement with her fingers.

"I know," Rachel stated, annoyed. "Just gotta make it through the day."

Joanna hoofed past the duo, ignoring them, exactly the way they wanted it.

"I think he likes you." Phoebe chortled.

"I don't." Monica's retorted, disapproving.

Phoebe groaned. "Oh, come on! It's so obvious now!"

Monica stubbornly disagreed. "Phoebe, don't even joke like that! He does not, okay? He's just a good friend."

Phoebe scoffed. "All the more reason!"

"Ugh," Monica became agitated. "Does that even matter? We have bigger fish to fry!" She motioned to Ross.

"Fine, fine. But you know I'm right." Phoebe said, hinting of arrogance.

Hell, maybe she was right this time.

A legion of thoughts came and went; all of them focusing on one thing. The short springs proved to irritate his fragile back, and humming of the machines were nothing short of deafening. He had forgotten her dazzling eyes, and the smile that was the epitome of radiance. Her soothing voice, that helped him much more than any medicine, was nothing more than a memory he couldn't recall; Ross didn't want another seizure. All he wanted was to feel her lips again, to wake up from this dreaded nightmare that had haunted him for days. What he wouldn't give for that.

Yet, here he lay, back at square one.

How did he wake up last time? Was he even really awake? It could have easily been another dream; another nightmare he couldn't wake up from. Ross felt his own blood course through him, it was mind-boggling how something like that was keeping him alive. It felt painful, to lie there, conscious, unable to remember anything. The voices that came from the east; one was familiar, one was not. Something strange was afoot, and he was lost in time.

Ross couldn't see the light. All he could do was visualize it. It did not carry the warmth it did when she stood in front of it.

One particular dream he could recall, however, was vividly pleasing; it was not like the rest. Most of it was pitch black, but towards the end of it, he saw her, surrounded by ice. Rachel was almost frozen herself, and he knew he had to do something before it was too late. The twilight behind him chose to release it's captor, and he moved in. Wrapping himself around her, he closed his eyes to feel her touch once more. As she leered into the reflection, something made him do the same. For the split second his eyes were opened, something was different about him.

Wings?