Chapter 3: You Know I'd Fight For You
Chandler snapped awake with a jerk, growing rigid in the bed as he froze. He managed, if only just barely, to keep the scream currently lodged in his throat from getting out. The images of flames and an accordioned car still danced behind his eyelids, the nightmare receding, though not fast enough. What little details of the crash Gary had given were still more than sufficient to have his darkest imaginings run away from him.
Chandler had been having the same recurring nightmare for the last several weeks since his brother-in-law, his best friend, along with his other dear friend, had been killed in a car accident. He could tell his wife had been plagued with insomnia as well, since the news, and he glanced to his right. Monica's back was to him, and while she now shifted just slightly under the covers, she didn't appear to wake. Either she was feigning sleep for his benefit, or she was truly getting some rest for once, at least for tonight. Chandler knew he would rather have Monica sleep decently than he himself having sweet dreams.
... He wished that they could talk more, about what had happened. He could tell that Monica didn't want to, whereas Chandler had the urge to never stop talking about it, and the only reason he wasn't talking about it was out of fear that he would upset his wife.
The light outside the master bedroom had turned from an inky blackness to a dark navy. The pinks and blues of dawn wouldn't be far behind with the days turning longer, true spring about to give way to summer. It was May in the city, and the many blossoms were in bloom.
Chandler flopped back down beside his wife in the bed they shared and tried to catch some real sleep, even as he was afraid of being dropped back into the nightmare the moment he closed his eyes. Losing Ross stung the most, even as Chandler privately scolded himself for ranking the grief he felt over his lost loved ones. Rachel had been like a sister to him, albeit an often adversarial, squabbling one, but Ross had been his best friend since college. Then his brother by marriage – Ross had entrusted Chandler with his sister's happiness before he had ever even vocally entrusted Chandler with the care of his child, should anything happen.
Chandler opened his eyes just a crack and studied the rise and fall of Monica's breathing. The grief had to be two-fold for her: she had lost not only her brother, but her best girlfriend since high school. How she was sleeping better than him, if she was indeed sleeping at all, was beyond him, even as he had to be grateful for it.
It wasn't as though real, waking life was giving Monica any reprieve.
The restaurant had granted her a grace period, a leave of absence on account of bereavement. But eventually she would have to go back to Javu, and then what would they do? Offload Emma onto Joey during the day? Chandler was determined to parlay his new position at the ad agency into an opportunity for advancement. He had to – he had a family to support, a family that had grown by 1 in an instant. In the meantime, Monica had thrown herself into mothering Emma, even though Chandler could tell that this was a means for her to create order out of chaos, for herself and the child. And to keep her own emotions at bay by keeping busy.
Suddenly, there came whimpering and then grating cries over the airwaves of the baby monitor. Chandler grunted and sprang out of bed, determined not to let the baby's needs ruin Monica's sleep.
He padded out into the living area and then down to the guestroom, which had recently been refurnished into a nursery.
Chandler lifted a thrashing Emma out of her crib and bounced her against him, keeping his movements careful almost to the point of feebleness. He was still getting his sea legs as a parent, since Monica was the one home with her all day while he was at work.
He wrinkled his nose, able to tell just from the smell alone that a diaper change was called for. It certainly wasn't his favorite job of the task of parenthood, but for the sake of giving Monica a few extra minutes….
He moved towards the changing table, and slapped about in the dark of the cabinet beneath for some clean diapers. He, Joey and Mike had built this changing table together. That day, Chandler could tell that Mike had felt out of place, perhaps almost fearing that he was replacing Ross. But the pianist had nevertheless pledged to help Chandler and Monica however he could.
Fist closing around a clean diaper, Chandler lifted Emma onto the changing table. Suddenly, the room was flooded with light and he hissed, wanting to shield his eyes.
Behind him, a bleary-eyed Monica was leaning against the doorjamb and he felt his heart sink.
"I didn't want to wake you…."
She just tutted; she crossed to join him at the changing table, wordlessly nudging him to make room for her.
Chandler watched, in awe, as his wife expertly changed Emma's diaper, making soft cooing noises at their niece even through the occasional yawn.
"Let me burp her!" Chandler pleaded, wanting the division of labor to be at least equitable. Glancing to him, Monica nodded and passed him the baby. Chandler lightly bounced around, rubbing and gently thumping Emma's back. When he glanced back, he caught Monica studying him with a grateful look.
"You didn't sign up for this…."
He shook his head. "Yes, I did. I signed up for exactly this." Well…. not literally, but he had known when he and Monica married that she wanted nothing more than to have children. For all his doubts about his own ability to be a parent, Chandler wanted nothing more than to support her in that dream.
Even if they were realizing that dream in the worst possible way.
With the baby finally calm, Monica beckoned to her husband to let her take Emma. "Come on, precious, you can sleep in Auntie and Unky's room…."
Chandler set aside his annoyance at being referred to as 'Unky' (which he hoped never became a thing) in favor of warily admonishing his wife: "Mon…. I don't know if that's such a good idea…."
"Chandler…" Monica whined. "She needs us!"
"More like you need her," Chandler pointed out. "She was sleeping on her own through the night just fine with Ross and Rachel…."
His voice trailed off when he saw how Monica froze. Deciding that this was a losing battle, Chandler sighed and acquiesced.
The thrown-together little family climbed into bed together, Monica resting up against the headboard while keeping Emma pressed against her chest. Chandler fished about for a sham pillow on the floor and nudged it against his wife's back, to keep her comfortable. Monica smiled at him gratefully.
Emma started to rouse again, and Monica murmured sweet nothings to her. Chandler settled down to sleep. He eventually nodded off to the sound of his wife singing to their little charge:
"Come, stop your crying, it'll be all right… Just take my hand – hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you. I will be here, don't you cry…. For one so small, you seem so strong. My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm. This bond between us can't be broken – I will be here, don't you cry…. Cause you'll be in my heart…."
By the time Chandler awoke again, the bed was empty and sunlight was streaming in through the window. He sprang out of bed in a panic until he remembered: it was Saturday.
He bustled into the kitchen. Emma was in her high chair, bopping about and gurgling at her Aunt Monica, who was attempting to feed her some mashed peas. Seeing Chandler, Monica flashed him a smile, but it was weak and reached nowhere near her eyes.
Chandler gave Emma a drive-by pat on the head, stooped to kiss his wife on the mouth. The kiss surprised but pleased Monica and she let out the tiniest hum before they broke apart. Weaving through the kitchen, Chandler moved to the front door.
The mail was waiting on the doormat, and Chandler sifted through it listlessly. He glanced up at the sound of the door across the hall from them opening, and Joey appeared. The struggling actor froze when he saw Chandler.
Chandler smiled wanly. "Morning, man."
"…. Morning," Joey nodded leerily.
"Hey, Monica is fixing pancakes! Want to join us for breakfast….?" He tried not to sound too pleading.
Joey winced. He hadn't been by for breakfast at the Bings' place since before the accident. Back then, he could be counted on to breakfast over at Mon's place every day, but now….
Chandler resorted to begging, if only just a little. "Come on, Joe…" His voice was almost a whisper.
Joey hedged and hemmed. But, finding no good reason enough to decline…. "Oh…. Oh, all right. My audition's not till late…." He trudged across the hall in his bathrobe.
Chandler studied the back of his friend's head as he followed Joey inside. He hoped the only Tribbiani son was not finding it too emotionally difficult to live alone, now that Rachel was gone. Monica was thrilled by Joey making an appearance and greeted him warmly, looking relieved. Chandler took his seat at the table, still flipping through the mail.
Joey morosely stabbed at his pancakes. He kept staring sadly at Emma.
Chandler finally got to the last piece of mail. Then he did a double take.
"A court summons…..?" He started to tear the thing open.
"Chandler? Honey, was is it?" Monica asked. Joey looked up out of his pancakes with mild interest.
Removing the summons' contents, Chandler scanned the missive line by line. When he finally met his wife's eyes, he felt like he needed to run to the bathroom and throw up.
Monica felt a weight drop into her stomach. "Chandler….?"
"It's from Amy…." Chandler breathed. "She's…. she's taking us to court. …. She's suing us for custody of Emma."
"What?" Joey barked, half-rising out of his seat and making a grab for the court summons.
There was a sudden screech as Monica pushed her chair back and rose with a grace that was almost terrifying. Her face was pale, yet hard. Chandler could see tears in her eyes, glistening under the artificial lighting of the apartment.
"She's not taking her…." Monica's voice was soft and deadlier than a hurricane.
"Mon…."
"She's not taking her." Then, as if to prove her point, Monica lifted Emma out of her high chair and clutched the baby close. "What gives her the right?!"
"She's her aunt," Joey pointed out rather self-evidently, if also unhelpfully.
"Yeah? Well, so am I! I've been Emma's aunt in every way that matters! Amy's only seen her, what, twice since she was born?: once at Thanksgiving and then at the… the…. funeral….." The anger and outrage was building in the beautiful chef, cresting like a tidal wave.
The boys glanced at each other, unsure what they were supposed to say.
"She's MINE!" Monica growled. "I'm really expected to give up my brother and best friend's child to some gold-digging trust fund brat? I'm Emma's godmother – Rachel said so!"
Chandler stared down at the court summons, feeling an icy noose twist around his heart.
"Verbally, maybe. But did she or Ross declare it in writing?"
Monica froze. Joey did too, his eyes widening.
"They didn't revise their will….. They couldn't have…."
Chandler nodded. Terrible as it was, you didn't need to be a lawyer to follow the logic. "If they had, there would be no grounds to contest on Amy's part."
"Has the will been unsealed?" Joey wanted to know.
"I don't know," Chandler answered honestly. "Ross and Rachel wouldn't have had a joint will; they weren't married. That means separate wills for each of them. And the only way we would have any reason to know about the wills would be if some inheritance were left for us."
Joey rounded on Monica. "Ross would have surely left you something. You're his sister! Rachel probably would have named you as a bene… bene…."
"Beneficiary," Monica finished for him.
Joey snapped his fingers and pointed. "Yeah, that!"
Monica and Chandler glanced at each other. Husband and wife carried on a whole conversation in just their heads.
"We have to see those wills," Monica breathed. She hurriedly passed the baby to Joey, who looked flummoxed even as he took her, holding her on his lap awkwardly. The boys watched as Monica ran for the phone. "I'm calling Mom and Dad! Maybe they've been shown at least Ross's will!"
A light bulb suddenly went off in Joey's head. "Call Mike," he told Chandler.
"Mike? Why would….?" And then Chandler got it. "Great idea, Joey!" He set to work dialing Phoebe's boyfriend's number.
Mike Hannigan may have been a former lawyer, but he still had his law license to practice. "Just in case the pianist thing doesn't work out," he had explained to Chandler over the phone. Better still, Mike had connections.
"I didn't practice family law," Mike now cautioned the Bings and Joey, where the group was huddled in the kitchen of Apartment 20. Leaning against the wall, Phoebe hovered over the strategy session anxiously; she seemed to be playing with Emma to calm herself as much as to calm the baby. "My specialty was in mergers and acquisitions. But…." Here Mike held up a finger. "I do know wills. The most common impetus for any merger or acquisition is a company filing for bankruptcy."
"Title 11," Chandler rumbled.
"Exactly. When a company files for bankruptcy, it's sort of like a death, making the breaking up and distribution of assets essentially a corporate will, as it were. While the language might not be precisely the same as that seen in, say, the Will for an individual, the principles behind the language share more in common than you might think," Mike lectured. He slapped his hands on the table. "Here's what is essential: we have to see Ross and Rachel's wills – plural, for they are very likely separate, and read the precise language in each. We have to search for whether anything is mentioned about guardianship concerning Emma."
"And if there's not…?" Phoebe started to ask, but Chandler waved her down.
"Wouldn't it have just been easier for Ross and Rachel to create a whole new, joint document enumerating those wishes for their daughter, even though they weren't married?" Coming from Joey, the question was rather astute.
"Honestly? They would have been fools not to, and do it immediately after the baby was born. More likely, what they would have done, or really should have done, was revise each of their wills separately, making sure that the language surrounding their wishes for Emma was coordinated."
Monica picked up on the conditional. "You don't think we're going to find any language about guardianship in there, do you, Mike?"
Mike pursed his lips grimly. "If their Wills had been revised to designate guardianship for Emma, the language would be there in black and white, clearly enumerated. In the absence of that clear language, that's enough for Amy to have a foothold for a case, nuts as it might sound."
Monica could feel herself start to tremble. "It's not fair….." she whimpered. "Ross and Rachel appointed Chandler and me guardians! They said so themselves, at Thanksgiving!"
"Did you record this conversation….?" Mike asked.
Monica turned pale. "No, but….. God, how could we have known that they would….?" Her bottom lip trembled. "They said it! Amy was there!"
This caught Mike's attention. "So the plaintiff was present for this conversation?"
Monica breathed in deeply through her nose, trying to keep her anger in check. "The plaintiff is the entire reason the conversation took place! She was babbling on and on about wanting Emma in the event of the worst, as if she was entitled to her, even though she's never been a presence in the child's life! Rachel and Ross made it very clear to everyone present that their wishes were for me and Chandler to take care of the baby should anything happen to them!"
Mike nodded thoughtfully, taking copious notes on a white legal pad. "I'm sorry, Monica, but unless these wishes were revised into the will in writing, or there is a recording of your conversation with Rachel and Ross, there isn't a lot of recourse to stop this. Whatever wishes are explicitly enumerated in the Will must be abided by, with the exception of a few extreme cases. Last wishes are considered absolute, provided they are stated unequivocally. Anything short of that is fair game – including Emma…"
Monica whimpered.
"Hang on:" Phoebe piped up. "What if we were to draw up an affidavit?" Everyone looked at her. "Hey, my step-dad's in prison. I know some of these things. We could draw up an affidavit recounting the conversation we all had at Thanksgiving – the conversation Amy was present for…." She nodded to Mike. "Mike could draw it up, and we would all sign it as witnesses." She pointed to herself, Joey, Monica and Chandler.
Chandler folded his arms and bowed his head, despairing. "It would still be our word against Amy's…. wouldn't it? What's to stop Amy from filing a counter-affidavit claiming the complete opposite happened, and Ross and Rachel named her as guardian?"
"Because then she'd be committing perjury," Mike explained. "An affidavit is the same thing as testifying under oath, except it's just in writing." He grinned contemplatively. "Also, I doubt Amy is thinking this far ahead….. I'll start writing a draft immediately!" He immediately began composing one in longhand on that legal pad.
"So we submit this affidavit…." Monica mused. "We all attest to it, as witnesses…. What would happen if we could get Amy to sign it too?"
"How would we do that?" Chandler asked.
"Then she'd have no case," Mike replied to Monica's question. "She would be attesting to your version of events as fact."
Chandler was shaking his head. "Amy would never go for that."
"We could blackmail her into signing it!" Phoebe growled with relish.
Chandler stared at her dubiously. "So we would be fighting for custody of an infant by committing a crime. Wow, Pheebs, that's a great plan!"
"…. What if we tricked her?" Joey pondered aloud. At everyone looking at him, he shrugged, lips pursed. "Hey, she's dumber than me! We could pull it off!"
Chandler shook his head. "She could just come back with another suit claiming we deceived her." He nodded to Mike. "File the affidavit, and make sure it's clear that Amy was present for the Thanksgiving conversation. We'll all sign it, but even if Amy doesn't, we'll have her good and trapped. Still, no matter what we do…." He reached for Monica's hand. "We're going to have to fight for our niece in court."
Monica's jaw hardened with determination, the competitor in her itching for battle. "I've never been in a fight I didn't win. Bring it on, Green!"