CHANDLER
Chandler woke gradually, brought back to consciousness by his throbbing headache. He groaned dramatically as he adjusted to his surroundings. He found himself in Joey's room. The last thing he recalled was James feeding him alcohol and touching him as he limply allowed it, but he didn't remember coming home or how he got into Joey's bed. The only positive part of the situation was that he was certain the black out was caused by the alcohol and not his ANDD.
At some point he changed and was now dressed in his nightclothes, sweats and an old T-shirt. When he glanced beside him, he found a glass of water and three aspirin on top of a note that read take these. Chandler didn't hesitate to gulp down the pain relievers.
"Damn," he griped and rubbed his temples. What was he doing in Joey's room? Most likely Joey thought he was having an episode and decided they should sleep in the same bed.
He stood, legs still shaky, and made his way into the living room. Joey was sitting on one of the recliners looking worried. When he heard the door open, he leapt up. "Chandler!"
"Hmm," Chandler returned, no energy to really speak.
"How are you feeling?"
"Is it Sunday?" Chandler asked.
"Yeah."
Chandler dropped into the other chair. "I wonder how many days of work I miss when I'm out."
"Do you remember what happened yesterday?"
Chandler stiffened, anxious by the implication something of note had taken place. "Um, I went over to James's. That's pretty much it."
Joey shook his head in frustration. "Yeah, you came back here wasted and threw up all over me."
"Sorry," Chandler replied sheepishly.
"I don't care about that. I had to help you shower and-and," he stuttered. Chandler tilted his head. "And I saw your bruises!" he burst out.
Chandler was briefly stunned into silence. Fuck. "It's not what you think."
"What?" Joey spoke sharply, "Why wouldn't you tell me?"
"There's nothing to tell. Everything's fine."
"Stop lying to me," Joey snapped, "What were you thinking?"
Chandler wasn't sure exactly what he expected when he imagined his friends finding out, but this hurt. He knew he must look pathetic, getting beat on by his meek, younger boyfriend. It was only natural Joey would be repulsed by the reveal. Chandler looked away. "It doesn't matter."
"How could it not matter?"
"It's really not that bad and it's not like it's going to last forever anyways."
"Then why haven't you broken up with him yet?"
"That's not what I meant," Chandler replied somberly.
He knew he shouldn't have said it.
"What do you mean?"
Chandler ran a hand down his face. "I don't wanna die alone, Joe, and I don't know how much longer I'm gonna be here."
Tears sparkled in Joey's eyes. "Do you even care if you die?"
It was a good question. He was scared of the symptoms, of the things he might say or do when he wasn't present, hated the heat waves and the chills, but the concept of dying didn't arouse any visceral reaction. He didn't realize until now how much the idea had grown on him. "It's not like I have any control over it," he evaded the question.
"Chandler," Joey's voice was soft. He stepped closer until he was only a foot away and Chandler's breath caught in his throat. "It kills me to see you like this," he reached a hand out to Chandler's face and he instinctively nuzzled into it, "Please don't go back to him. You don't have to be alone. I love you."
The words ached Chandler's chest and he let out a breath, laden with all the pain he had been keeping inside for the past several months. "You don't love me the way I love you. You can't," and there it was. The confession. It couldn't be taken back now. It was out in the open and after all the time he had tried to keep it from Joey, it fell out of his mouth without so much as an internal dialogue. If he was dying, and he was certain that he was, there was no longer a reason to keep it bottled up. Because god, he loved Joey so much that it tore him to pieces.
"You're wrong," Joey whispered, "I'm in love with you."
Chandler's eyes widened. He pulled his face away from Joey's hand to gawk at him, trying to gather a sense of whether or not he was joking. Joey stared sincerely back at him, not a hint or irony on his face. "But…"
"But nothing," Joey said and leaned in. Still in a state of shock, Chandler allowed him to press his lips against his own, remaining momentarily still as he registered the situation. And then he melted into the kiss.
It wasn't like anything he ever experienced before. It was passionate, filled with the love that he tried to squash down all these years. It was needing, desiring, desperate, like they couldn't get enough and air came second after feeling the other. Chandler wrapped his hands around the back of Joey's neck and Joey placed his hands on Chandler's waist, pulling him closer. They were pressed against the other's bodies, yet still there was too much space between them. Chandler was lost in the kiss. There was nothing else in the world outside of Joey. He was kissing Joey. He had to wonder if it was a dream, but it was all too real and his heart was full and the hole he carried around in chest was no longer empty, but brimming.
They pulled apart for air, lips swollen and sore with the kiss, and pressed their foreheads together. Chandler laughed lightly, still stunned with what had just happened. "I love you," he said again.
"I love you," Joey murmured back, "Come with me," he reached for Chandler's hand and tugged him to the bedroom, his grip light, allowing rejection, but Chandler would never turn this down.
They fell on the bed with Joey on top, and the kiss turned frenzied and sexual. Joey's tongue slid into his mouth and he rubbed his hardening cock against Chandler's pants. Chandler moaned into his mouth.
Joey's hands trailed down Chandler's chest and then dipped beneath his shirt. He didn't press down, just tickled his skin like he needed to feel him, to know he was real, but not daring to press on his bruised torso.
Joey worked his way back down to Chandler's pants and began to work the first button.
Chandler felt something like a bell ring, a vibration echo throughout his body, then his mind became blurry. The world went out of focus and all he could see were vague colors. Sound was distant, behind some type of wall, traveling the way it does underwater.
"Chandler?" it was the first thing he could make out. Joey's voice. Panicked.
There was a touch on his face and Chandler winced and turned away.
"Chan! What's going on?"
Slowly, Chandler returned to reality. He was in Joey's bed. They were about to have sex and he freaked out. "I'm sorry," Chandler muttered.
"What happened?" Joey looked dumbfounded.
"I just-" he held a hand over his chest to feel his rapid heartbeat. He had stopped existing, stopped feeling anything at all, but his ever present anxiety flew back into his chest upon waking. "James…" he didn't know how to phrase this, but he had one confession out of the way, he may as well spit out the other, "Even when I didn't want to, it was easier not to fight. I kind of checked out and let him do what he wanted. I know it's lame, but it makes it worse when you say no and he keeps going than if you let it happen," he allowed himself to look at Joey again and saw that his face was a mix of horror and fury.
"I'll kill him."
"It's okay," Chandler forced a smile. It was a surprise to see someone so passionate about him, so offended on his behalf. "I should probably call James."
"Why?"
"I need to break up with him," he reminded Joey who had apparently forgotten they were together, "I have a question."
"What is it?"
"Did I really invite James to come over to introduce to you guys?"
"Huh? No. He kind of just showed up."
Chandler felt vindicated, but equally taken advantage of. "I knew it," he said, "I'll be right back."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Joey offered.
"No, it's okay, I should do it by myself," Chandler moved to stand up, but Joey caught him by the sleeve. Chandler turned back around to see Joey making puppy dog eyes at him. He leaned in for a short kiss, savoring each second of it, and pulled away. He felt dazed, still disbelieving that this could have happened.
Reluctantly leaving, and not without a pout from Joey, Chandler journeyed to his balcony. He grimaced as he passed through his room, evidence of James sprawled throughout. He shattered the mirror in anger, shards slicing through Chandler's shirt and into his abdomen. He ripped open his drawers and threw them off the tracks, convinced Chandler was hiding things from him. The depression he caused made Chandler lazy and slovenly and the filth of his room was proof that he had long since stopped caring. He picked up some of his dirty shirts and tossed them in the laundry basket before slipping through the window.
His finger hovered nervously over James' number. He took a steadying breath and pressed it.
Time moved slower while he waited for James to pick up.
"Hi, baby," James purred.
Chandler cleared his throat. "I have to talk to you."
"What is it?"
His head felt light and his eyes rolled back in his head. A wave of heat overtook him and the last thing he managed to shout before his phone fell from his hand and down to the pavement was, "Joey!"
###
Chandler didn't remember passing out as he came to surrounded by worried faces. His friends hovered in front of him and let out sighs of relief when they saw him wake. "What's goin' on?" Chandler asked. He took stock of his surroundings and found that he was on the floor of his living room.
"You passed out on the balcony. You almost fell off. You could have died," Joey answered. He didn't display any indication of relief and his face was red.
"Sorry," Chandler sat up, "How long was I out?"
"Five minutes," Monica told him.
"Guys, I-" he winced and touched his stomach where he must have collided with the railing on the balcony, "I don't think the treatment's working."
"It hasn't been that long," Phoebe said quickly. They didn't want to accept the facts. This was harder on them than it was for Chandler.
"If it was going to work, it would have started by now," even when he said it out loud, it didn't totally sink in, "I think I'm going to die."
Silence. Then Rachel pleaded, "Don't say that."
"I'm sorry."
"We don't know that," Monica argued. Ross didn't say anything, but he looked deadly serious and Chandler could see he was hiding emotion.
"Should you go to the hospital?" Phoebe asked.
Chandler shook his head. "There's nothing they can do anymore," he collected himself, not generally comfortable with the baring of emotions, but knowing that it was what he had to do now, "I love you guys. A lot. I know this is hard."
"Please stop," Joey's voice was gravelly.
"I'm going to be by myself for a minute, okay?" he didn't wait for a reply before standing up and squeezing between them, back to his bedroom.
He sat on the bed and stared into the remaining glass that clung onto the edges of the broken mirror. I'm going to die. For real die. I'm leaving all my friends behind. He pulled his knees to his chest until he heard the sounds of his friends leaving. He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, but found that it was gone. He had to talk to James. He had to break up with him because even though a minute ago he was refusing to die without him, now it seemed there was nothing worse than dying while still together. It would be humiliating. He couldn't imagine James at his funeral.
Oh, Christ. His funeral. He batted away the thought, unable to envision his friends gathered around his coffin, weeping for him.
He picked himself up and peeked out the door to make sure everyone had left before pulling on his shoes.
###
Chandler knocked, already wondering how much he would remember. His head was swimming and his stomach was sick, the characteristic signs that he was about to lose time.
James wore a straight face when he answered the door. "Chandler."
"I have to tell you something," he pushed past James into the cheap apartment, "I'm dying," he said before James could speak, "and I'm breaking up with you."
James glared. "Hell you are."
Chandler was expecting a fight, so his reaction came as no surprise. He wiped sweat off his forehead and held a hand to the wall to keep himself from falling. "I'm sorry, but this has been just the worst, so I'm actually not that sorry."
James stomped towards him. "You took advantage of me."
"No, I didn't. You," — raped —, "took advantage of me. You act nice, but you're an asshole."
"You knew exactly who I was and you liked it," James was inches from his face. Chandler's eyes fluttered back in his head. He fought for consciousness.
"No, I was desperate. There's a difference. And, by the way, you don't even care that I'm dying!"
"We're all dying. Get over it," he shoved Chandler and he easily folded to the floor. James straddled him and when Chandler moved to push him away, he pinned his hands down. "You want to die? I can make that happen."
Chandler's breathing was labored and he could barely stay awake, let alone fight back. "Get off," Chandler growled, but the words were small and frail.
James wrapped his fingers around Chandler's throat and squeezed. Chandler coughed until enough air couldn't escape his throat to manage even that. Chandler knew he wasn't going to stop this time. He was going to choke him until the last drops of life left his body.
JOEY
It wasn't something Joey could accept, not entirely. But that didn't stop him from feeling sick from it. The group permitted Chandler his alone time and filed into Monica's apartment. They all sat in the living room together and no one said anything for a long time.
"I don't believe this," it was the first time Ross spoke since Chandler broke the news to them.
"It doesn't make any sense. It's so sudden. Why did his meds stop working?" Rachel demanded answers.
Joey cradled his head in his hands.
"Is it really true?" Monica asked softly, but no one answered.
It wasn't fair. That was the only thought that Joey could perceive. After everything they went through, Chandler being abused by James, the wins and losses against his illness, their struggle to find each other, it wasn't fair. They deserved better than this. Chandler was a good person, so why was this happening to him?
Maybe Joey shouldn't have left him alone. He should be there right now, holding him, promising to stay by his side.
Phoebe was the first to cry. Joey put an arm around her and allowed her to lean into him. He placed his cheek on top of her head and blinked away tears. Monica and Rachel cried next, Monica silently weeping and Rachel loudly sobbing. Ross stood up. "I have to go," he said gruffly.
"Should I check on Chan?" Joey asked.
Phoebe sniffled and drew away. "Yeah. Probably."
"I'll see you guys in a bit," Joey said and headed back to his apartment. "Chandler?" he knocked tentatively on the bedroom door. When no reply came, he pushed it open. His frown deepened when he saw that it was empty. "Chandler!" he called through the apartment, trotting to the bathroom and finding it empty as well. His pulse quickened. Something was wrong. Chandler should have told him if he was going somewhere. Maybe there was a chance he had gone to the corner store to pick up a pack of smokes, deciding that if he was going to die anyways, he would at least go out with some nicotine in his system.
Joey raced back to Monica's and threw open the door. "Chandler's missing."
"What?" the girls jumped up.
"He doesn't have his phone," Joey said.
"Where would he have gone? Central Perk?" Phoebe guessed.
"You guys look there. One of you go to the corner store. I'm going to his work. If you hear anything, call me," Joey commanded.
He sprinted down the stairs, raced through the park, the same path he knew Chandler took to work in hopes he would catch him ambling to the office, and finally reached his building. Joey didn't need to go inside to know he wasn't there. He could feel it in his gut, but he swept through the floor that Chandler worked on and stopped on the rooftop to catch him mid-cigarette.
He was nowhere to be found.
"Shit," Joey cursed. He went to James's. That was the only explanation he could reach. After failing to break up with him the first time, he'd gone to end things in person. If James battered him while they were together, Joey couldn't imagine how he would react to being dumped. He had no clue where James lived or how to find out.
Damnit, he should have asked to go over. Chandler mentioned something about him living in a poor part of town, but past that, Joey was completely in the dark.
He found a woman named Laura and tried to drill information out of her, but she was unhelpful and borderline rude. Joey stepped out of the office building, dragging his feet and racking his brain. He grabbed his phone and dialed Phoebe.
"Did you find anything?" he asked before she could say hello.
"Nobody's seen him."
"Did he ever tell you where James lived?"
"You think he's with James?" Phoebe asked.
"I don't know. I'm worried about him. I have a bad feeling."
"Me too," she said solemnly.
###
For a moment, Joey thought he was overreacting. He sent out a search party the second he found Chandler missing from the apartment. So what if he went over to James' place? He would be back soon, like he always was.
That was until evening came and Chandler didn't return home. Joey didn't know what to do with himself. It felt wrong to focus on anything else, but he had exhausted his resources and there was nothing more he could do. He tried to watch Baywatch, only to end up staring blankly ahead, brain tormented with thoughts of what could have happened to his best friend.
It was around eight thirty when Monica came over and touched his shoulder, snapping him out of his trance. She brought him back to her apartment where everyone was gathered and they ate comfort food and cuddled on the sofa like he was already dead.
Three days passed. Three agonizing, heart aching days with no word from Chandler. Joey went into Chandler's room and cleaned, washed his clothes, took down the broken mirror, fixed his drawers, and then cried on his bed.
Time dragged by and his friends tried to pull him out of his funk, but there was nothing anyone could do to fix him.
It was on the fourth day as he was walking to Central Perk that he got a phone call.
"This is St. Francis Memorial Hospital. Am I speaking with Joey Tribbiani?" a woman asked.
Joey swallowed hard. "This is Joey."
"We have a patient here by the name of Chandler Bing and you are his emergency contact. Would you be able to come down and fill out some paperwork?"
"Yeah," he choked out, "Is he okay?"
"Mr. Bing is currently in the intensive care unit."
"But he's okay?" he needed a straight answer. The ICU meant he was alive, but in what condition?
"That's something you will have to discuss with the doctor."
Joey huffed and hung up, not having the patience for the back and forth. He flagged down a cab and made the call to Monica as they drove painstakingly slow in the 5 o'clock traffic. He was grateful when she said she would pass the news on because he didn't have the capacity to entertain any more conversations right now.
When they arrived at St. Francis, he wasn't the only one vying to be dropped off at the front door. There was a line of cars ahead of them so he jumped out and raced past, nearly crashing into the automatic sliding doors before they opened all the way.
He slammed his hands down on the receptionist's desk. "I'm here for Chandler Bing."
She didn't look up. "One second, sir," she reached beneath the counter and shuffled through some papers before retrieving a clipboard and passing it to him.
"Where is he?" Joey urged, unconcerned with their protocol.
"I will let you know when the doctor is ready for you to come up."
Joey sighed and relinquished, settling in one of the waiting room chairs, trying and failing to focus on the dull papers.
Chandler had made Joey his emergency contact. If he could feel anything other than anxiety, he might have been pleased. He could barely contain himself with this pent up energy. No one admitted it, but the others were beginning to think the unspeakable might have happened. The past few days of not knowing had been a harrowing purgatory.
After about ten minutes, the rest of the gang arrived, rushing up to Joey and demanding answers.
"I don't know anything yet. They won't tell me," he shoved the clipboard into Ross's hands, "Can you fill this out?"
"Sure, Joe."
"No one said anything?" Rachel asked again.
Joey was growing frustrated. No one wanted answers more than him. "They said he's in the ICU and the doctor will talk to me when he's ready."
The group grumbled their complaints about the wait and sat. Joey watched the clock on the wall as it moved slower and slower until finally the nurse called his name and he hurried back to the front desk.
"Doctor Jones would like to speak with you at the nurse's station on the fourth floor."
Joey took a deep breath and nodded. "Can my friends come?"
"No, I'm sorry."
Joey apologized to the others, unsure if he would prefer that they were there or not in case he received devastating news, and then rushed upstairs. The elevator would take too long so found the stairs and sprinted, panting when he arrived.
He was about to ask where the hell was this doctor when a woman appeared beside him. "Mr. Tribbiani?"
"Yes, that's me."
"I'm Dr. Jones. I've been taking care of your friend. He was admitted to our emergency ward yesterday in critical condition."
Joey dug his fingernails into his palms.
"He was admitted with bradycardia, lacerations to his face and body, and a high fever. He was placed on a breathing machine last night. It appears that he was strangled and the shock slowed his heart rate down until his pulse was imperceptible. He is lucky to be alive."
This didn't feel lucky.
"He is no longer on the ventilator, but we're observing him closely."
"Is he awake?" Joey asked.
"Yes, but he's taken morphine. He was in a lot of pain. The police will want to take his statement later today."
"I'll let him know. Can I see him now?"
She nodded and pointed to the door beside them marked 450. Joey didn't hesitate to burst in, hands vibrating and heart pounding so hard it shook his body, but upon entering, he came to a standstill.
The lights in the room were dimmed and the TV hanging on the corner cast down alternating colors on Chandler's face. He was pale, his lips were busted open and there was a split across his nose. His right eye was swollen and deep purple. Chandler looked up at him through his one good eye.
"Chandler," Joey breathed as he hurried to the bed.
"Hey," Chandler let out a small cough, "Do I like good?"
"What happened?" Joey grabbed his hand.
"I was an idiot. I went to see James to break up with him and he didn't take it too well. He tried to kill me," he looked down, "Among other things."
"I was so scared."
"How long was I gone?" Chandler asked.
Joey tightened his grip on Chandler's hand. "Three days."
Chandler grimaced.
"How much do you remember?" Joey hoped to God his mind had gone blank again.
"Not really anything. Where's everyone?"
"They're downstairs. The doctor said they can't see you yet."
"Oh," he sounded disappointed.
"I'm sorry. There's another thing. The cops are gonna want to talk to you."
Chandler shook his head. "I can't talk to them."
Joey was taken aback by the refusal. If anything, he thought Chandler would be glad to see James behind bars. "Why not?"
"They won't take me seriously."
"I really think you should," Joey pressed.
"I did kind of get myself into this mess."
Joey ripped his hand away and glared at Chandler, not meaning to be harsh, but overcome with indignation at the statement. "How can you say that?"
Chandler pulled the corner of his lips back. "I have to tell you something and remember you can't be mad at me 'cause I'm in the hospital."
Anger drained from Joey, replaced with unease. "What?"
Chandler was reluctant, letting Joey sit in his worry for several seconds, before relenting, "Remember when I thought I had a stalker and then we all thought it was just the ANDD?"
Joey nodded slowly, not liking where this was headed.
"Well, I kinda did and it was kinda James."
Joey gaped as he processed the statement.
"I know. It's bad," his cheeks turned pink on his otherwise pinched face.
"What were you thinking?" Joey demanded.
Chandler shrugged, then winced at the movement. "I was lonely. I didn't think anyone wanted me and I kept striking out on every date I went on. I thought that he was the best I could do. I mean, let's face it. I'm not exactly a catch. You're way out of my league."
Joey was feeling an overlap of emotions and he didn't like it. He preferred to keep things simple, to feel one thing at a time, but all at once, he felt terror and fury and heartache and love. His best friend couldn't see his worth, couldn't see all the things that Joey saw glowing from his very aura. "Don't talk like that," he scolded, "It's not true. I didn't think you would want me. I mean, you're so smart and funny. You have your life together-" Chandler chuckled wryly at that and Joey shot him another dirty look, "- and handsome."
Chandler was too caught off guard to return a self deprecating remark. "Handsome?"
"Yeah, Chan. You're, like, hot."
Chandler furrowed his eyebrows. "Have you had your eyes checked?"
Joey groaned. "You're so frustrating."
Chandler allowed himself a small smile. "But you love me."
"Yeah. I love you," he leaned down and pecked a kiss on Chandler's lips, "But that was really dumb!"
"I know, but that's why I can't talk to the cops. They'll never believe me."
"You have to at least try," Joey wouldn't let him give up before even attempting. Anyone who saw Chandler's condition would have to admit his attacker was a menace to society.
"Joey, can I ask you something?" Chandler asked shyly.
Joey tilted his head. "Anything."
"Would you kiss me again?"