Rachel looked down at her watch and let out a heavy sigh, "not long now," she murmured.

A silence fell over the two friends as they contemplated their own challenges which lay ahead of them. Neither felt ready. Chandler doubted he'd ever feel ready.

"Are you going to be ok?" he asked her softly.

"Sure," she shrugged sadly, "all I have to do is sit there and try and smile. No one really knows me, so as long as I can keep my face neutral enough no one will know any different. Hell, if I cry people will assume they're tears of happiness, right?" He nodded sympathetically in agreement, "Ross was so happy I was here," she continued, "I have to hold onto that somehow. It's gonna hurt like hell, I know that but I'll get over it...eventually…I hope. It was just all so fast that I guess I didn't realize it was actually happening… but I'll be ok. Plus, I've got all you guys to look after me."

"Sure," he agreed sadly, hating what this wedding was doing to the both of them. It wasn't just fair. He guessed, at least, she would have the others to comfort her and take care of her. She'd have Monica to get her through it. Monica. She was great at the advice thing, great at the comfort thing...great at most things. The irony wasn't lost on Chandler that the one person he desperately wanted comfort from was the one reason he needed it. To think, he used to be a lover of irony.

"What about you?" Rachel asked, interrupting his poignant musings, "You have to stand up there with them."

"I know," he sighed, he'd been worrying about that since the early hours, "I'll cope somehow."

At least he hoped he would.

"But you're going to be standing next to Joey," she pointed out.

"I know," he repeated through gritted teeth, trying his hardest not to snap. His headache was back, pounding with full force and his stomach was starting to churn with nerves and the recent abuse, "but there's not much I can do about that. I live with the man, Rach, it's not like I can avoid him forever. It's not like they did anything wrong. They were both consenting adults."

And that was the truth, the bottom line. No matter how much it crushed him; they hadn't done anything wrong and he couldn't blame or hate either of them. Just himself.

"Like Ross and Emily," she agreed swallowing. "I can't hate him for marrying her, despite how bad I feel."

He couldn't decide if in some way it was a blessing that he had someone with him who could really understand the severe anguish of the whole situation. He wasn't proud of it, but a selfish part of him welcomed it; something strong to hold onto amongst the storm of the pain, heartache and anxiety. But a larger part of him wished she didn't have cause to understand his suffering quite so well.

"Those Gellers know how to break hearts," he said softly, "and they don't even know it."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her nod in agreement and he sighed again, really hating how much pain she was in; how much pain they were both in right now over the siblings. Wordlessly, he dug the almost-empty bottle out of his jacket pocket, unscrewed the cap and took a long swig. Closing his eyes he felt the liquid burn his throat as it made its way to his empty unsettled stomach.

With a shaky hand he held the bottle out in front of her in a silent invitation.

"What the hell," she muttered, grabbing it off him, "nothing like some Dutch courage."

She took a few mouthfuls, grimacing slightly at the taste of the whiskey. Once done she handed it back to him and he finished the bottle; draining it of its last drops of courage. Empty, he placed it on the dirty ground by the bench. There was no point taking it with him; it had helped all it was going to.

This was it.

They had run out of time.

He could feel his anxiety levels start to rise.

"Let's do this," Rachel sounded determined as she stood up, staring straight ahead.

He swallowed down his nerves, his heart starting to beat that little bit faster wishing he had Rachel's determination. But if Rachel could do this then he could too; he had no choice. He couldn't make her face this by herself. Composing himself a moment, he eventually nodded and slowly stood up to join her. They both had to do this, this was for Ross. Ross didn't deserve his wedding to be destroyed because of this.

He could do this.

He kept the mantra running through his head as he tried to dig deep and find any inner strength that would get him and his heart through this next hour. Just one hour.

They started to walk slowly back through the small courtyard, navigating the debris and rumble. They ducked under the yellow safety tape and passed the 'Keep Out' sign which both had ignored earlier whilst seeking solitude. They came to stand near the front of the partly-demolished church. This was it. Both took deep breaths before looking at each other. Rachel reached out a hand and slowly he took it, giving it a reassuring squeeze before releasing it.

They could do this.

Entering what was left of the old foyer, Chandler let out a relieved sigh at not spotting either Joey or Monica. From here they could see the inside of the church; the stage for their unrequited love dramas to be played upon. It was so close. It looked beautiful which contrasted sharply with the inner darkness he was currently feeling. The hundreds of welcoming fairy lights and candles that he'd actually helped set up what seemed like a lifetime ago, sparkled brightly giving it an understated romantic feel. God, he'd rather be anywhere else than here. Anywhere.

He felt Rachel sigh beside him and he glanced at her. He was sure she was having the same grave thoughts.

"Come on," he swallowed, trying to sound more confident than he felt as he nudged her with his shoulder, "we can do this; for Ross."

She didn't look entirely convinced but slowly nodded and together they forced themselves to enter the main church. They walked down the aisle, treading on the soft red carpet that would change Rachel's life forever. There was an empty seat near the aisle towards the back and Rachel indicated that this would be her chosen seat for this tragedy.

Chandler nodded one last time, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze in comfort, "good luck, Rach."

She nodded gratefully, unshed tears already in her eyes, "you too Chandler."

Their worried gazes met one last time, gaining whatever strength they could from the other before they broke apart.

Chandler continued the rest of the way to the front of the church alone. He kept his head down praying that the ground beneath his shiny shoes would just open up and he could disappear. His hands were still shaking so he stuck them in his now empty pockets, the shirt collar and cravat felt too tight against his neck, choking him. He could feel himself start to sweat, desperately wanting to turn around and run but he couldn't do that. He forced himself to keep walking, one painful step at a time.

"Chandler?"

No going back now. He swallowed before looking up and meeting his friend's concerned gaze.

"Hey Ross."

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked quietly, coming right up to him. "Everyone's been worried sick about you. You look awful, what happened?"

"Nothing," Chandler lied badly, "I'm fine; I'm sorry I worried you, ok man?"

Ross raised an unbelieving eyebrow which he knew only too well.

"Look," he sighed, "don't worry about me, I really am fine- you're about to get married, focus on that. This is gonna be the best day of your life."

Ironically, he remembered saying those exact words of wisdom to him at his first wedding.

He could feel Ross' eyes on him a moment longer, he obviously wasn't convinced.

"I, uh," Chandler continued trying desperately to change the direction of the conversation, "I ran into Rachel and have been with her."

Ross' face changed, "it's great Rachel came isn't it?"

"Sure," Chandler winced as he followed his friend's eyes to the woman in question. It was going to be so painful for her.

"I can't believe she came," Ross continued smiling as his gaze lingered on Rachel.

Chandler frowned as he watched. Something in Ross' eyes didn't seem right, not when standing at the altar waiting for another woman. But at least it had taken Ross' attention off of him.

"It took a lot for her to come," Chandler stated before realizing the implications. "I mean work gave her hell but she was determined to come and wish you the best."

"Yeah," Ross finally looked away from her, his gaze falling back onto Chandler. "Hey, I thought you were walking Monica down the aisle?"

He froze, unprepared for the question and swallowed hard, itching for another cigarette. "Change of plan," he said simply, "I'm, uh, gonna stay up here with you, moral support and all."

"Ok," Ross frowned but thankfully didn't push it. Thank god for small mercies.

He wouldn't have had much time to argue anyhow as the pastor came over and asked if Ross was ready. He looked at Chandler for moral support and despite every instinct in Chandler screaming no, to try and delay the inevitable, he swallowed down his fear and nodded encouragingly. This was about Ross. This was about his oldest friend. Not about him and not about them.

Moments later the music started, causing dread to rush through him. This was really it. It was too late to escape now. He was going to see both of them. Up in front of all these people the last piece of his bruised heart was going to shatter and there was nothing he could do but plaster a fake smile onto his face and pray it stayed there.

Do it for Ross, he reminded himself, do it for Ross.

A couple appeared at the other end of the aisle and started their walk down. Strangers. He should know their names, they'd met at the rehearsal last night but he had no clue who they were. All he knew was after them came Joey and Emily's delightful mother. Would that still happen? Would Joey force her to walk on her own so he could walk down with Monica? Arms linked together, whispering and flirting happily as the recounted the fun they had last? Happily making further plans for tonight? For the future?

He closed his eyes and tried to get control of his breathing. In out. In out. He could do this.

"Why the hell is he on a telephone?"

Confused by Ross' mutterings he reopened his eyes to see that Joey had stuck to the original plan, apart the phone thing. He knew the moment Joey had spotted him as he blinked in surprise and looked a strange mixture of very relieved and very guilty but continued his phone conversation. He even waved at Rachel to which Ross wasn't impressed.

As Joey came to stand next to him, he knew he couldn't ever hate the man. He could feel jealous and a tad bitter but he'd never feel hatred for Joey. Joey was one of the good guys.

"Chandler's here with Ross, no he's ok, I think, looks like crap-" Joey trailed off noticing both men glaring daggers at him. "It's Phoebe!" he said excitedly but the glares remained. "He looks quite mad, I better go…ok, fine…"

Looking at them as casually as possible, Joey held the phone up for Phoebe to hear. Ross shook his head but returned his attention to the other end of the aisle as Chandler continued to study his roommate for another moment. He wasn't sure what clues he was hoping the man would reveal but he didn't reveal anything.

"Hey...you ok, man?" Joey asked quietly, risking another glare from Ross.

"Fine," he swallowed, he seemed to be lying a lot today.

In reality he was anything but. He was anxious as hell. Any moment now Monica would appear and make her descent down the aisle. She'd look stunning and he'd know that she had chosen the man next to him. He took some deep breaths, the band and candles antagonising his headache. He squeezed his hands into small fists trying to stop the shaking. He could do this.

Then there she was.

On her own.

Her eyes met his instantly, piercing blue. There were so many emotions, hurt, anger, relief, guilt, that he couldn't maintain the contact. It was too much. His gaze broke away, dropping to the floor as he tried to compose himself.

He should feel guilty that he'd made her walk down the aisle alone. He should feel guilty that they'd been worrying about where he was. Guilty that he'd fallen in love with her in the first place. But all he could do was focus on the red piece of carpet underneath his feet and try not to bolt.

As she got to the front he foolishly risked another glance at her and swallowed. It was a mistake. Being so close he could see the confusion and hurt and it tore through him. He knew he couldn't hide from her and felt vulnerable as she studied him; her eyes boring into his exposing his soul; it was laid bare for her to see. She was probably only standing there for a second but it felt like an eternity.

When she'd moved away to stand with the other bridesmaids he closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. He'd done it. Barely, but he'd done it. He'd seen them both and hadn't broken down. He hadn't crumbled on the spot and hadn't bolted.

He opened his eyes and sought out Rachel in the crowd who offered him a brief smile which he returned. He'd done his hard bit, but now it was time for her to do hers.

He didn't envy her.

A/N- again thank you so much for all the reviews. Means a lot :o)