Chapter 4: True Love

"Oh. My. Gawd."

Between the sheets, Chandler and Monica both stared up at the rotating ceiling fan, panting from the exertion of spending hours upon hours making love. Honestly, it was a miracle that none of their friends and family had walked in on them; Chandler at least hadn't heard the sound of Joey returning to the apartment, which made him wonder if the lunch at Central Perk had turned into an entire afternoon and evening dinner of conversation.

The afterglow moment of bliss was interrupted by Chandler's iPhone ringing on the nightstand. He answered, then wished he hadn't.

"Heeeeeeey….."

"Oh," he chuckled tightly, as he felt Monica stir against him, loop her arms about him. "Hey, Pheebs…." He started to feel the beautiful chef's warm and soft lips peppering a trail of equally warm and soft, even tender and loving kisses, down his face, into his neck and the hollow of his throat, working her way to his sternum. He shivered with delight as he felt, at the same time, Monica's hands wander.

"Hey, how was the big Central Perk get-together? We feel bad to have missed it; Mike had work…."

Monica's hands were now at Chandler's waistline and moving dangerously southward; her lips were fixated on slobbering her tongue along his third nipple.

"Oh, it was….. fine…." Chandler got out through gritted teeth, understanding immediately what Monica – the dirty little minx! – was doing. She was trying to get him off the phone. "Great time at the coffee house, per usual. But I, uh…. came back to my place early – wanted to show something to Em! – ma….." He yelped through his goddaughter's name as Monica's fist closed around his cock and stroked it, readying him so he could have his way with her once more. Not this. I absolutely did not want to show Emma this, he thought, shame coursing through him as he thought of his niece. He chanced a glance at Monica. ….. Their niece….. "I'm pretty sure the others moved on to Alessandro's!" he squeaked. "You know how our group gets…. Lunch flows right into….. din-ner…" He ground out, squirming as he felt Monica pumping his cock again. Clearly, she was already thinking about dessert.

Phoebe had clearly heard the odd inflection points in Chandler's voice and found them strange, even for her. In the too-long a pause, Chandler desperately wished he hadn't fed their masseuse friend such a story. What if Phoebe called Rachel or Emma, only to learn that they weren't at Alessandro's, or that Emma wasn't even with him?

"Well, next time we're over there, I'd love for you to show me…. whatever you showed Emma. So, you know, I can see it too." Phoebe finally spoke.

"No problem," Chandler grunted. "Bye." He hung up, and pinned Monica to the mattress by her wrists, his eyes ablaze with desire and frustration. "… You….. bitch!..." he growled, and then his lips fiercely descended on hers.

Even after going for another hot and heavy round, Chandler still couldn't believe what had just happened. Glancing down at where Monica lay against him, stroking his fingers through her dark hair now plastered to her forehead, he felt as though he was coming up from out of the bottom of a dream.

A little twinge, a little shock, a little whisper at the bottom of your memory….A sudden wind, a gentle knock, and then a rustle in the leaves.
You hold your breath, You check the lock, You reassure yourself that nothing's at the window.
But you're wondering. You're wondering. You're wondering what that was.
Nothing's gonna happen.

You turn a key, you flip a switch, you settle back into the blissful unfamiliar.
You close your eyes, but there's an itch, a little hurt your heart retrieves.
But you ignore the tiny twitch, pretend the feeling will be gone before the morning.
But you're wondering. You're wondering. You're wondering where you are.
Nothing's gonna happen.

But wouldn't it be fine to share the weather in her eyes, her hair, her footsteps as she climbs the stair. The shadow in her light? But everything you know is true, and everything you want to do, and everything that makes you you collides against the night….. And nothing's black and white….
And you're wondering. You're wondering. You're wondering what to do. You're wondering. You're wondering. You're wondering if it's true

Monica hummed with bliss, snuggling against her lover. She damn near purred as she nuzzled her nose into his chest. "I missed you….."

Chandler wound his arms about her, and his grip tightened. "Believe me – you have no idea how much I've missed you…."

Settling into companionable silence, Monica shifted her head to study him. With his eyes lightly closed, she could still tell, even after all these years, that he wasn't asleep – just resting his eyelids. Yet, how supremely at peace and undisturbed he looked even when dozing never failed to take her breath away.

So much about him took her breath away, still. She almost couldn't name the intoxicating enigma that had always been Chandler Bing.

What do you call a man like that?
How do you even try to give it a name?
A classification.
What do you call a man like that?
Something from days gone by.
A kind of wind blown from the past.
But where do you find it?
From what time, or place, or fairytale?
Can someone so ridiculous, so earnest, so strong.
What do you call a man like this?
How to describe his hands, so tense and so easy, so controlled but unpredictable.
The tornado of his eyes shining bright, finding light.
Wanting something, knowing something, seeing something, something holy.
Something newly born without a name.

For both Monica and Chandler, they felt as though they had finally been set free from some prison. A prison largely of their own construction, before they had come to their senses and torn the walls down, brick by brick.

What was I saying before about being lost?
The thing is, I knew where I was, but not where I was going.
Why did I walk those mountains?
Why did I ride those ships?
Why did I watch those horses running wild?
Now I know.
Now I know.
All my life, I have been falling.
I have been falling into you.
Circling in the sky, looking for a harbor coming into view.
All my life, I have been falling…. into you.

Whatever this is…
Whatever we do from here, don't give it a name.
We mustn't reduce it to something clear or simple.
I want to believe that we are the first people on Earth to
Know this feeling,
To know this moment,
To cross this line.

Adding up all those minutes
Staring through all I saw,
How could I know the answer
Would be you?

Only you.

Pressing a kiss to his neck, Monica huffed out a sigh. "God, I just wish we hadn't wasted…. a quarter of our lives! All these years!"

Chandler cocked an eyebrow and glanced down at her. "I swear to God, if you act like your brother and say we were on a break, I'll…."

Monica burst into peals of laughter, and he chuckled with her. Before long, they were both hooting so uproariously, they couldn't seem to stop. Chandler was laughing, so hard, he couldn't breathe.

Wait….. oh, fuck, he really couldn't breathe…. He was struggling to get air…..

He felt his body vaguely hit hard wood as he rolled out of the bed. Distantly, he could hear Monica's voice calling his name:

"Chandler?... CHANDLER?!"

The last thought he had before he went under was to curse how he, a decades-long celibate, hadn't bothered to ask his doctor if his heart was healthy enough for sex.

He was in a field, with haystacks scattered about. Oddly, he was dressed in a tuxedo as he stared out at the woman in the near distance: Monica, wearing a wedding dress. She ran to him, leaping into his arms and he caught her, spinning them both in a dreamy ballet sequence, like their movements, their coming together was a magical dance.

Suddenly, the sky darkened, and a second figure, also in a tuxedo and with a cartoon-villain mustache appeared and yanked Monica out of Chandler's arms. The mustachioed heathen whom Chandler had immediately pegged as Richard now carried the woman, crying and screaming and thrashing, away….

…. At least, she cried and screamed and thrashed until he kissed her, and Chandler watched as she melted into it…..

A monitor was beeping….

Wait…..

A monitor?

Slowly, Chandler came surfacing up, back into the land of the living. He could feel wet tears dripping onto his face like sweet rain. A woman's soft cheek nuzzling his.

"No…. no, please! Please, don't leave me! Chandler, please…. I love you….."

"Mon – i – ca….." he wheezed, starting at the whoosh of air that accompanied his voice and made him sound like Darth Vader.

He had a breathing tube down his throat.

Upon his speaking, Monica sprang back, drawing both hands to her mouth to hold in a gasp. "Oh, thank God! ….. Thank God…." And then she was peppering kisses along his face everywhere she could reach or that wasn't blocked by the machines he was hooked up to.

Even as Monica kissed him, Chandler turned his head. He could just make out writing etched on the bottom of whatever monitor he was hooked up to. A couple of letters:

E. C. M. O. ….. ECMO…..

…. What the hell was an ECMO?

As if reading his thoughts, Monica started prattling in a rush.

"Your colon exploded. The doctors said it just gave out due to all the amount you've been drinking." She flushed prettily. "And here I thought it was something that I had done when…. When we were…." She turned even redder, though she wasn't smiling, still clearly scared and shaken up.

"How…. long was I….?" Chandler could barely talk with this thing down his throat.

Monica went pale. "Two weeks," she murmured. "You've been in a coma for two weeks."

Startled, Chandler tried to sit up, only for Monica to press her hand lightly into his chest. "Ssssh….. rest, my love…"

Eyes darting to land on a small pad of paper, Chandler groped blindly for it; seeing his intent, Monica dutifully moved to help him, also providing a pencil, with which Chandler wrote:

WHAT ABOUT YOUR KIDS? RICHARD?

"Phoebe and Mike are back at the house, looking after the kids. As for Richard? He should be moved out by now."

If it wasn't for the stupid tube currently sitting on his face, Chandler would have let his jaw drop.

"Mon… No….."

"Yes," she growled fiercely, clutching at him as much as she dared without risking hurting him. "You were given a 2% chance of surviving, Chandler. There were eight other people on ECMO machines at any given point along with you. Those other eight? – none of them made it….. No one did….. except you…." She beamed at him wetly, through unshed tears. "I lost you once. I almost lost you at too many points over the last two weeks. I'm not going to lose you again!" She tenderly smoothed down his hospital gown.

"Maybe…. it's better this way…." Chandler rasped, struggling not to have his words turn into a coughing fit.

She shushed him. "Don't talk like that. You'll be all right…. We're together now; everything's going to be fine, you'll see…." Bending over him, she kissed him on the forehead. "I love you so much, Chandler…." She studied him. "You do know that I love you, don't you? Please say that you do…."

He nodded. "I know. I love you too, Monica…." He started to cough, and she kissed him again where she could, whispered sweet nothings to him.

"I love you….. and when the doctors release you, I'm bringing you home. With me." The lovesickness in her eyes, along with more than a little fierce determination, left no room for argument.

Dazed, Chandler nodded.

Chandler made it up the front steps to the large house in the suburbs where Monica had, until recently, lived with her soon to be ex-husband, Dr. Richard Burke.

He might still not be able to walk entirely under his own power, except with Monica dutifully helping him, but he could speak under his own power. More importantly, with help and support from the woman he loved, he had vowed to quit alcohol for good – the doctors had told him that it was either that or eventually needing to use a colostomy bag for the rest of his life.

Standing before the front door, he began to feel nervous, turning to his… his lover fretfully. "What if they don't like me?"

"They'll love you," Monica assured him, her eyes bright and her smile kind, full of love.

"For what? Screwing their mother and breaking up their family?"

"You did not break up this family. If anyone broke up anything, I did, separating from Richard. Frankly, I should have done it a long time ago…."

Chandler gazed at his true love, heartbroken. He had had no idea that she had been this unhappy in her marriage…. So much wasted time…..

Monica pushed open the door and helped Chandler into the foyer.

"Erica? Jack?"

There was a thundering stampede from down the stairs, and then two teenagers squirted into the hall. Gaunt, weak and somewhat sickly, Chandler knew he must look like quite a sight.

The boy lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "This is your old flame?"

Chandler grinned weakly. "Sorry, kid. I'm usually much more handsome than this."

"You're handsome always…." Monica murmured, kissing his cheek. Jack and Erica looked at each other. "Come on, sweetie, we'll get you a seat…." Monica helped him into the living room, and eased him onto the couch. Behind their backs, Chandler could hear his lover's children whispering. They were probably placing bets on how long he had, and thus how long they would have to wait before dear old Mommy took their mustachioed Daddy back.

Monica now kissed Chandler on the forehead, then ducked to kiss him on the lips. "I'll be back," she murmured against his lips. "Glass of water?"

He nodded gratefully. Monica tousled his hair and then bustled into the kitchen and out of sight.

Chandler listened, though he pretended not to, the twins ribbing each other.

"You ask him!..."

"No, you ask him!..."

Eventually, it was apparently Erica who lost, as she now circled the couch and stood before Chandler, approaching him leerily.

Chandler was relieved to see how neither the girl, nor her brother, looked anything like Richard. Seeing as how the twins were adopted, that made sense. Had he not known that, though, Chandler would think that this girl actually did share a resemblance with her mother.

"Relax, kiddo. I don't bite."

Erica nodded once, still wary. "…. Mom's told us stories about you."

Chandler cracked a weak smile. "All good things, I hope?"

Erica nodded again. "She said she's in love with you."

Chandler nodded back. "She is, god knows why. And she was a long time ago, before…. before you were born and before…. she married your dad."

Erica studied him, considering this. A long pause, and then:

"Do you love her? My mother."

Chandler looked this girl square in the eye. "Yes. I do. I never stopped."

Erica hugged herself. "…. Do…. do you think you'd be able to love my brother and me?"

"Of course I would! You're a part of your mom, so how could I not….?"

"Actually, we're adopted," Jack offered up. "Our birth mother is in Ohio; we still write to her."

"Doesn't mean you're not still a part of the mother who raised you," Chandler pointed out. "And she happens to be an amazing woman. And I don't intend on losing her again. I'd like to be with her…. and both of you, if you'll let me. I…. I know you already have a dad."

Erica appraised Chandler once before giving a bob of her head, seemingly satisfied with something. "Well, I wasn't exactly expecting a stepfather. But if I had to have one, I suppose you'll have to do."

Chandler smiled at her gratefully, humbled by her grace and generosity far beyond her years. Hearing Monica suck in a breath, he glanced back to see the love of his life beaming wetly at her family, and he knew she had heard everything.

One Year Later

With Joey acting as officiant between them, Chandler and Monica – in a tuxedo and a simple white dress – stood to face each other and give their vows. The bride went first.

"Chandler…. For so long, I wondered if I would ever find my prince. Then, twenty-six years ago, at another wedding, I turned to a friend for comfort…. and instead I ended up finding everything I'd been looking for my whole life." She smiled sadly. "I'm just sorry I ever let that go, and for as long as I did. But we made it back to each other. Now…. here we are…. With our future before us…. and I only want to spend it with you: my prince. My soulmate. My friend. My husband….." Leaning in close so that only he could hear the last words, she whispered, "I love my husband…."

Chandler drank Monica in, left breathless at the sight of her in her dress. "Monica, I thought that this would be the most difficult thing I ever had to do….. But when I saw you walking down that aisle, I realized how simple it was: I love you…." She beamed at him beatifically. "Any surprises that come our way, it's OK, because I will always love you. You are the person I was meant to spend the rest of my life with." He stepped into her, eyes only for his bride. "You wanna know if I'm sure….?"

He kissed her, long and lingering, and with a sigh, Monica melted into the embrace and returned the kiss. Their wedding kiss deepened, leaving a befuddled Joey to hastily mumble, "You may now kiss the bride."

The congregation – among them Rachel, Ross, Emma, Phoebe and Mike – burst into applause and cheers. When Chandler and Monica finally broke apart, smiling into each other's eyes, Monica simply pulled her husband back to her and kissed him thoroughly again, absently tossing her wedding bouquet aside as she closed her eyes and lost herself in the embrace.

There was no shortage of amusement by those present at seeing a bemused Erica catch the flowers.

Kissing the love of his life, Chandler could only be grateful that he had made it to hell and back. Now, he could taste heaven as he beheld it now in his eyes just then: Monica's smile. It was a smile he hoped to look at, wake up and fall asleep beside, grow old with, for the rest of his life.

As for Monica, kissing the love of her life, she still had her regrets about walking away from the best thing that had ever happened to her, once upon a time. She was just so happy and grateful that she had gotten it back. That Chandler had loved her enough to want her back, even after all these years.

He loved her. She loved him. Right now, that and just being together, forever this time, was enough.