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Chandler turned back around, ignoring him, hoping that his friend was drunk enough to drop the subject.

"Chandler," Joey said, walking even closer to him.

Damn it, no such luck.

He ran a hand over his face and spun his glass, making the ice make noise, "it's nothing, Joey."

"You've been saying that for months. I know something's wrong with you. I'm not as dumb as I look, okay? Tell me, talk to me."

Chandler's head was swimming. He wasn't sure if it was all of the liquor he'd drank or this conversation that was making him dizzy. He looked out over the water again but was very aware of his friend staring at the side of his face, "It doesn't matter," he finally said, "please, please just drop it."

Joey crossed his arms and continued to stare at him, "Chandler you and I have always been able to talk about anything. Why can't you tell me? Who is it?"

"Because I can't." Chandler spat at him.

He stepped closer to him, "The only reason I can think of for you not telling me who it is would be because I know the woman." Chandler gulped, because unfortunately, Joey was getting warmer, "Is it someone I know?"

Chandler continued to not look at him, staring at the night sky, making noise with the ice in the glass, "It's really not important."

Joey put his hand on his shoulder, pushing him a little to make Chandler look at him, "Is it one of the girls?" Chandler didn't meet his eyes, instead picking something on the floor of the deck to stare at. "Chandler."

"I'm not talking about this!" Chandler finally snapped.

Joey crossed his arms defensively. "We're not leaving this spot until you tell me," he said, not willing to give up on his friend. He looked at the top of Chandler's head, realizing the only logical answer to his persistent question.

Joey knew how much Chandler loved his friends, and how he would do anything for any of them, but he also knew how close he was with one person in particular. He smiled more when she was around. He always sat through a chick flick of any length just because she wanted to watch it. He has ran to the store for her in the middle of the night if she needed girlie stuff or even a tub of ice cream to cry into.

It was in front of his face the whole time.

"It's Monica, isn't it?" Chandler's eyes met his just for a split second, and then Joey had his definite answer. "Monica?"

Chandler sighed and threw the rest of the unsmoked cigar into the water below them, "Will you shut up, please?" He walked away from him, catching his step when the boat rocked a little more. Maybe he was drunker than he thought he was.

He didn't care. He needed more. More liquor to numb his entire body. He walked past the group of men still in a circle, laughing about something obnoxious. He found the bar and put the glass on the wood, sliding it towards the bar tender, who automatically filled the glass with a double of whiskey. "Thanks Jim."

He rolled his eyes when Joey found him, walking up to him quickly, "we are not done with this conversation."

Chandler took a large swallow of his drink, "I think that we are," he said.

Joey furrowed his eyebrows, "what in the hell is wrong with you?"

"I am not talking about this with you!" Chandler stated firmly.

Joey stepped towards him, quieting his voice a little so that anybody around them couldn't hear. "You can't be in love with Monica! She's getting married this weekend. And you are currently at her fiancé's bachelor party!"

Chandler felt his hand ball into a fist, "damn it, you don't think I know that?"

Joey opened his arms, staring at him, "well I can't tell. You're walking around here like you're a zombie!"

"Shut the hell up, Joey." Chandler said through his teeth, "I told you that none of it mattered anyway."

"Well good. Because you're too late!" the man hissed. Chandler stared at him, biting the inside of his lip so he didn't lay his fist into his friend's face, "you're too late." Joey said again, this time a little calmer, more even toned. He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the man in all white, "she's marrying Pete."

Chandler wanted so bad to let out his frustration by smashing his glass across the room or throwing his barstool in the vague direction of Pete, or hell, even Joey. He needed to do something to vent; his pent up frustrations welling up inside him ready to burst. He gritted his teeth together again, "Just get the hell away from me."

Joey watched as Chandler walked around him, walking as quickly as he could to get away from him. Ross walked up and stood beside him, "what was that all about?"

He sighed, "nothing, Ross. It's complicated."

"Do I need to go talk to him?"

"No." Joey said quickly, "I'm handling it. Everything's fine. Just...leave him alone, please."

Ross nodded and watched as the Italian man followed his roommate's footsteps out of the bar.

Joey walked slowly, trying to calm himself and process this new revelation. Chandler was in love with Monica? He couldn't believe it. He knew something had been weighing his best friend down but never once would he have guessed this was the reason. Looking back though it all started to fall into place. The timing of his mood swings, the lack of jokes, the way he'd often find an excuse to leave the room anytime Pete was over at Monica's place.

What the hell was he supposed to do to help him? He spotted the man in question sitting on a step on the deck. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his knuckles white where he held his glass. He looked the picture of despair.

Taking a deep breath, not sure where this conversation would lead he approached with caution, like one might a wild animal, not wanting to frighten or spook it.

"I never intended for it to happen," Chandler's voice was strained; seeming a lot weaker than it had moments before. The man looked like he'd simply deflated. Given up and accepted his fate. "I didn't want it to happen."

"Sure," Joey shrugged slightly, his eyes still on his friend.

"And when I noticed it was happening I tried to stop it, I really did," Chandler promised, "but I couldn't, can't. The more I tried to actually resist it the stronger it got," he paused, raising his head and opening his eyes to meet Joey's. "What do I do Joey?"

Joey swallowed, taking a couple of steps towards his friend to sit beside him. He stayed quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. How to make this better. He had nothing.

"She's just so goddamn perfect," Chandler continued, pain flooding his voice. "Every single little freaking thing about her makes me want to be with her so badly and it's killing me that she's with Pete, absolutely killing me."

"But Chandler," he said softly, "she is with Pete. She wants to be with Pete. She's in love with Pete. She's gonna marry Pete."

"I know," he said sharply, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he screwed his eyes shut against his overwhelming emotions. It hurt so damn much. He'd never experienced pain like this. It was consuming him. Keeping it inside all these months, having to constantly lie and hide it had taken its toll on him; it had crushed him. And now talking about it wasn't helping. Talking to that Ellie girl, talking to Joey, having his deepest secret laid bare and hashing out wasn't helping. He just felt even more hopeless...just now with an audience. "Tell me what to do, Joe," he practically begged. He needed guidance. Needed something, anything.

"You've gotta move on, date other women," Joey insisted. "There's plenty out there that aren't engaged, ok? Plenty out there that aren't your best friend and that are actually attainable."

Chandler shook his head. He didn't want other women. He wanted her.

"Take that stripper girl that was all over you," Joey said, "Go find her, get her number and take her up on her offer."

Chandler shook his head, "I don't want to."

"You have to do something, Chandler," Joey pointed out. "You can't just pine over Monica."

He knew his roommate's words were true but he didn't want to accept them. His head was pounding now, his stomach queasy, his hangover wanting to kick in early. It was all such a mess. He was such a mess.

"I'm not ready," his confession was whispered into the night air.

"You don't have any choice," he gravely informed him. "She's gonna be Mrs. Pete Becker soon. Do you honestly think this is gonna get any better after she's married? It's just gonna get worse. You need to do something now."

To Joey's surprise Chandler stood up, swaying slightly and grabbing the banister for support.

"I am going to do something right now," Chandler announced but his tone had Joey frowning.

"You gonna find that girl?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope," he laid down his empty glass and took a few steps away from Joey. "I'm gonna chuck up over the side of this yacht, then find some spot that I can just curl up in a ball and sleep until this evening is over and most importantly, I'm gonna forget we ever had this conversation."

"Chandler!" Joey protested jumping up. "I can't do that! I want to help you."

He turned to face him for a moment and then sighed heavily. "You wanna help me, Joe? Then make sure they don't do anything to me while I sleep." He slammed his eyes shut when he thought that the drinks he'd consumed were about to make their way back up to his mouth, "and please don't tell anybody about this. It's hard enough as it is."

Joey rolled his eyes, reaching out a hand and catching his arm, "Please, just-"

"Unless you want to own two vomit tuxes, get out of my way, please," he added. His voice was quiet but serious, a tone that never suited Chandler.

Swallowing, Joey stepped back and released him. Watching as he walked away.

The next morning saw a very hungover Chandler sitting at their kitchen counter. He stared unseeingly at the door as he nursed a glass of water. Last night had been a disaster.

He heard his roommate's bedroom door open behind him and he closed his eyes, barely concealing his groan.

"Hey," Joey greeted. Chandler didn't bother to turn around. "Look, Chandler…."

"Don't," he said sharply, still not facing him. "Just don't."

"You don't think we should talk about this?"

"No." He didn't.

"Chandler…."

He brought the glass of water up to his mouth, taking a sip of it, "drop it."

Joey walked around the counter so that he could see his face, "This is not something that you drop."

Chandler held his throbbing head up with his hand, trying his best not to look at his friend.

He sighed, stepping to the refrigerator to pull out several supplies, and the constant noise of glass bottles hitting the counter finally made Chandler look up at him, "What are you doing?

"Well, you don't want to talk about this because you have a severe hangover, right? So I'm making you something to get rid of your hangover. I call it the Joremedy."

"I don't want to talk about it because it doesn't matter." Chandler didn't move his head, but his eyes followed Joey as he poured several different ingredients in the glass. "Yeah, I'm not drinking that." Joey stopped squeezing lemon juice into the cup when Chandler slowly stood up from the stool and walked over to the living room, lying down on the couch, his head on one of the throw pillows.

"It does matter because I can't stand to see you like this. "Joey abandoned his hangover drink and walked over to the barcalounger closest to the couch, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

"So, when did it happen?" He asked softly.

Chandler groaned, "Is this dropping it?"

"We're not going to drop it," Joey stated, "you need to get this out of you. That's why it's torturing you."

He still didn't say anything, throwing his arm over his eyes. Yet again, Joey was wrong. Keeping everything bottled up wasn't what was torturing him.

Monica…and Pete.

God, this sucked. Now, not only was his heart shattered into a million pieces, but his head pounded so hard he was sure it would fall off of his shoulders if he moved too quick.

"When did it happen?" He heard Joey ask again. Chandler let out the breath he'd been holding, the memory of 'when it happened' flooding into his pounding head.

/flashback/

He stood in her bedroom doorway for a moment drinking her in. She sat huddled on her bed, her hair pulled up in an untidy bun-thing, her robe on, hugging her knees to her chest, with her bare feet poking out. She looked so sad that it broke his heart.

"Hey," he said softly, announcing his presence.

She turned her head to greet him and offered him a small tug of a smile.

"Hey," she greeted back, her voice just as soft and sad. "What are you doing here?"

Taking that as an invitation, he walked further into her room, his eyes taking a moment to look around their surroundings. He loved her bedroom; it just breathed Monica.

"I, uh, just wanted to check how you were doing," he confessed gently, almost apologetically.

She sighed and patted the space beside her. Nodding, he walked the rest of the way to the bed and perched on the edge beside her.

"You ok?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know," she sighed again, heavily. "I just don't know what to do," he could hear the frustration and a hint of anger entering her voice.

"What do you want to do?" Chandler winced slightly, thinking he was sounding a little like his childhood shrink.

"Rachel and Phoebe think I should break up with him," Monica sighed. "That I already gave him the ultimatum and that he chose this stupid fighting thing instead of me. That I shouldn't have to watch him getting his spine bruised or broken and that I should just end it before I get hurt...by him getting hurt."

"Ok," he swallowed, his heart beating a little faster. "But what do you think?" That was the million dollar question. As much as he'd love her to break up with the man, to end this relationship before it got serious and let him comfort her, let her finally see what was in front of her, it wasn't worth risking her happiness. He knew she liked Pete and he was determined to push down his own feelings and help her. This as about Monica. Not him.

Besides, it wasn't like he was in love with the woman. This was just a crush. A little crush. One he'd get over.

"I don't know!" she burst, frustrated. "I know I don't want to break up with him but I hate seeing him getting hurt, knowing he's in pain. And for no reason apart from that he's so damn stubborn."

"He's not going to give up, at least not for a while," Chandler pointed out gently. "Do you think you could stand seeing him like that? Do you think he's worth it? I mean, going through all this?"

He swallowed hard, hating that he was trying to be the voice of reason. Part of him wished he could just take the same stance as Rachel and Phoebe and tell her to break up with the psycho millionaire, but he couldn't. He wouldn't be able to live with the guilt. No, she had to make this decision by herself...no matter which way it went.

"I think so," she confessed quietly, childlike, as she hugged her knees closer. She looked so fragile that he wanted to pull her into a hug and never let go. "I mean, I haven't felt like this with anyone since Richard. He makes me feel loved and cherished you know?" she blushed slightly at confessing this and Chandler thought she looked adorable. "I think I love him, Chandler."

He froze, totally caught off guard. Totally unprepared for her saying that or how her saying that would cut him in two. He was staring at her, observing how bright her eyes were, the glow her face had. She looked so good being in love...and it crushed him in a way he hadn't expected.

He didn't want her to be in love with Pete.

"T-that's great," he lied, swallowing hard, praying she wouldn't notice his rapid heart, his confusion or his sudden change in mood.

"Really?" she scoffed. "I'd rather be in love with someone who isn't crazy."

The last word was said with so much affection that it was another blow to his heart. What was happening? His feelings for Monica were something he'd live with for a long time. They weren't serious...were they?

"You can't help who you fall in love with," he said softly. "Go with your heart, Mon. If he's worth it then you have to just wait this crazy period out. Hopefully he'll give in soon...whilst he still has all his limbs."

She shuffled slightly, moving closer to him so their shoulders touched. She rested her head on his shoulder. "He's a terrible fighter, isn't he?" Her tone was a lot lighter.

"Oh yeah," he said quietly, still a little preoccupied with his own thoughts. Still confused at the feelings of lost that was starting to settle over him. "He sucks at it."

"Yeah," she grinned a little bit, chuckling. "He really does. At least he's my crazy millionaire, right?"

He closed his eyes, still experiencing those strange feelings, "sure," he finally managed to croak out.

"Thanks, Chandler," she snuggled further into him. "You always know how to cheer me up. You just get me more than anyone else."

"No worries," he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Savoring the feel of her soft hair against his lips, enjoying the familiar smell that filled his nostrils.

A horrible sinking feeling went through him, settling rock hard in his stomach as realization slowly dawned on him. That little crush he'd harboured, those 'slightly more than friends' thoughts he'd had about her. They meant something.

Love?

No, he couldn't be in love with her. That was ridiculous. It was nothing, it would blow over.

Hopefully soon.

/End of flashback/

"I'm still waiting for it to blow over," Chandler confessed dryly. "Any day now."

Joey sighed, rolling his eyes at Chandler's humor. Taking a breath he ran a hand through his hair, not getting it,"You're Chandler Bing...you don't fall in love. You don't want a committed relationship. What changed?"

"I want it with her." Chandler said slowly.

"Why did it change?"

He moved his arm from over his eyes and turned his head to look at Joey. "I'm a different person then I was." It was the truth.

Joey sighed, "but you can't have that with Monica."

Chandler put his arm over his eyes again, "I know that. You don't have to keep telling me."

Joey sat back on the brown leather, "why didn't you tell her about all of this before she met Pete?"

He let out an exasperated sigh, "Joseph are you trying to make me feel worse?"

Joey shook his head, "no, I'm not. I'm trying to get you to see that you need to move on." He looked down at the floor for a second, "oh! Why don't you try a date with Rachel or Phoebe? They're not engaged or even seeing anybody."

He let out a laugh and winced when his stomach flipped upside down. He sat up to see if his body liked that position better.

Nope.

"Well what did…"

Chandler held up his hand, stopping Joey before he could ask another question, "let me save you a little breath, okay? I know that this thing I have about Monica is pointless now. I know that she's not available anymore. I know that she loves Pete, I know that she is going to marry Pete. I know she is going to move in and have babies and raise a family with him. I know all of it. And eventually…" he stopped. That wasn't the right word, "...hopefully, I'll get over her one day. It's just going to take time. I can't go on a date or find a random girl in the bar to have sex with. That's not how it works. I've been dealing with this for a long time now, and I can keep dealing with it. You don't have to worry about me, and you don't have to worry about her." His stomach flipped over again and he didn't know if it was because he was telling all of this to Joey or if he was more hungover than he'd ever been in his life. "I'm gonna be fine, and she's…" he sighed, "she's the happiest I've ever seen her. I'm not going to screw that up. I'd never do that to her."

Joey sat back with all of this new information, processing it in a way that only Joey could. He sighed, reaching over to pat his friend on the shoulder, "Okay then."

Chandler nodded, relieved that Joey seemed to understand him a little better, "alright." He laid down on the couch again, finding that it was about the only way he could be comfortable.

A moment later the door opened and Joey turned his attention away from his suffering roommate to see who had entered. He laughed a little nervously when it turned out to be the woman they'd just finished talking about, "oh, hey Monica!"

Chandler groaned a little, shutting his eyes.

Just what he didn't need right now.

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