Phoebe was having one of the worst days of her life.

Of course, she couldn't say it was the worst. It wasn't worse than when her mother committed suicide, or when her stepdad got arrested, or when her friend Crazy Carl went behind her back and stole her shelter on the night of one of the worst snow storms New York had ever seen.

But it was up there.

She wasn't thrilled about half of her friends missing the trip to Atlantic City, but she took what she could get. Then the trip to Atlantic City had been replaced by a trip to the hospital to go through what would probably be the most painful experience of her life. She'd be delivering not one, not two, but three babies. And at the end, she couldn't even take them home. Alice, who was meant to be her birthing coach, was on the way back from Delaware and might not even make it in time, meaning she was left in the less-than-competent hands of her half brother Frank Junior and a doctor who masqueraded as the popular television character Arthur "Fonzie" Fonzarelli. Ross was phoning for the rest of the gang, but he wasn't sure if they'd be able to make it as they'd already left on their own trip.

"When are they coming?" Phoebe demanded as Ross stepped back into the delivery room.

"It–it could be a while," Ross stammered apologetically. "They were already at the beach house, and with traffic, they might not be able to make it for a couple hours."

"A couple hours!" Phoebe shouted. "The babies might have already come out by then! There's no point in them being here in a couple hours!"

"Okay, just calm down," Ross started.

"How about you don't tell me to calm down unless you also have three babies coming out of you?" Phoebe barked.

"Fair enough," mumbled Ross. He retreated to a chair in the corner.

"How are you doing, Pheebs?" Joey asked.

"How does it look like I'm doing?" she snapped. "Bad! I'm doing bad!"

Joey doubled over in pain as if Phoebe had shot him with her words.

"Okay, maybe it's time for some of that LaMazda breathing," Frank suggested.

"Lamaze, Frank! It's Lamaze!" Phoebe was running out of energy for yelling. "Do you even know what you're talking about?"

"Not really," Frank admitted. "Alice just gave me a crash course over the phone. I don't really know much more than the breathing, actually."

"This is a disaster!" Phoebe wailed. "We're missing half of the people who are supposed to be here!"

"It's going to be alright," Joey assured her, standing up and walking to her bedside. "Whether the others show up or not, we won't leave you."

"We'll be there for you," Ross agreed. "We'll make sure you're not alone. And I'm no expert, but I went to all of Carol's birthing classes with her. I might not know as much as Alice, but I think I can help at least a little bit."

"And don't worry about the rest of the guys," Joey said. "Labor can take a long time, right? They'll probably be here before the babies come anyway."

"And maybe Alice too!" Frank added.

Joey doubled over again, this time collapsing to the floor.

"Okay, that's it, Joey," Ross said firmly. "I don't think these are sympathy pains. You need to see a doctor! Come on." He helped Joey stumble to his feet.

"We can't leave… Phoebe…" Joey managed through gritted teeth.

"No, you should go," Phoebe said reluctantly. "I'll be fine here with Frank, okay? Just… try to hurry back."

Ross nodded. He and Joey slowly made their way out of the room.

"It's gonna be okay," said Frank.

"Yeah," mumbled Phoebe, not really believing it.

By age fourteen, Phoebe had lost three parents. Yet somehow, in this moment, she had never felt so alone.

Phoebe was in one hospital room, preparing to give birth. Joey was in another, preparing to pass a kidney stone. Ross was in over his head, unable to support one without abandoning the other. He desperately wished the others were here with them.

"You should go back to Phoebe," Joey insisted with a wince of pain.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Ross fretted.

"Hey, I'm a big boy. I'll be fine." Joey grimaced as he was hit with another wave of pain. "Really, I will," he added, although it wasn't so convincing through gritted teeth.

"But–"

"Look, Ross, we promised Phoebe she wouldn't be alone. I can't be there for her, so you're going to have to."

Ross deliberated over this for a moment, but of course Joey was right. "Alright," he conceded. "But I'm going to send Chandler to check up on you as soon as he gets here."

Joey's eyes flickered to the floor. "I don't know if Chandler's gonna wanna see me," he muttered.

"Sure he will," Ross assured him. "I know things haven't been great between you two lately, but he's your best friend–well, your other best friend. He'll take care of you."

Ross hoped that was true. In the chaos of all the medical events, he had forgotten all the fighting. All he wanted was for Monica, Chandler, and even Rachel to help him support Phoebe and Joey. He pressed his hands together anxiously, hoping the others would be willing to put aside their differences for the day too.

– –

Ross sat at Phoebe's bedside, holding her hand while Frank was out of the room, making another call to Alice. When the doctor found Phoebe alone, he had turned on Happy Days to keep her company. Phoebe had immediately muted it. Now the two friends watched Fonzie's antics play out in silence.

"Thank you for being here," Phoebe said quietly when the program switched to commercials. "It means a lot to me."

"Of course," said Ross, rubbing her hand with his thumb.

The door opened as a nurse whose name tag read "Dan" walked into the room.

"Here are those ice chips you asked for, Mrs. Buffay," he said, setting the cup down on the bedside table. "How are you doing?"

"Thirsty," said Phoebe flatly, putting an ice chip on her tongue.

"And how about you?" Dan asked, turning to Ross.

"Me?" he asked, surprised. "I'm… fine?"

The nurse nodded. "Just wanted to check. Some men start to panic right before the birth of their children, but you seem to be doing a good job comforting your wife."

Phoebe snorted.

"Have I said something wrong?" Dan asked nervously.

"Yeah, just a couple things," said Phoebe. "First of all, we aren't married; second, we aren't together; and third, the father is my brother."

"Oh," said the nurse weakly. He turned and left the room, leaving Phoebe and Ross laughing behind her.

"I'll miss freaking people out like that," said Phoebe wistfully.

"I'll miss seeing it," Ross laughed.

The smile faded from Phoebe's face. "Yeah," she said. They were quiet for a moment. "I wish I could take just one home," she murmured. "I know I get to be the fun aunt but… it's not the same."

"I know what you mean," said Ross. "I felt kind of the same way when Ben was born."

Phoebe quirked an eyebrow.

"I mean, I know it's not the same," Ross corrected himself hastily. "But when he was born, I just kept thinking about how I wanted to take him home with me, but he was going home with Carol and Susan."

"Oh," said Phoebe in understanding, and they were both quiet for a minute, watching Happy Days play silently.

Ross continued to hold her hand, and just for a moment, he imagined what it would be like if it was Emily here in the hospital giving birth to his child. He had always wanted more children, but that dream seemed to get further and further away. He was married, but he didn't know where his wife was. She wouldn't even call. At this point, having children with her seemed like a pipe dream.

"I hope they'll let me babysit a lot." said Phoebe, interrupting his thoughts. "I could have the three of them over to my apartment for the weekend."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah!" said Ross. "I'm sure Frank and Alice would love that. Three babies will keep them busy; they'll be glad for a break."

Phoebe studied him with that look that suggested she knew more than she let on. "What were you thinking about?" she asked.

"Oh… nothing," Ross sighed.

"Come on," said Phoebe with a smirk. "You went to another world for a minute. Where were you?"

"I was just wondering if I'd ever have a baby again," said Ross finally.

"With Rachel?"

Ross stared back at Phoebe, bewildered. "No," he said slowly. "With Emily. Remember? My wife?"

"Oh. Right," Phoebe said, bobbing her head casually. "That could happen too."

Ross opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn't wholeheartedly disagree with her skepticism. In the end, he just hung his head. "I guess that doesn't seem too likely right now, does it?"

"Actually," said Phoebe, "when I told her about the wedding, my psychic told me that you and Emily would have three kids."

"Really?" asked Ross. He didn't believe in psychics, of course, but it was nice to believe that somebody, anybody, believed in him.

"Yeah!" said Phoebe. "Two girls and a boy. Of course, she also told me that your wedding would be officiated by Richard Simmons." She considered this for a moment. "I might need a new psychic."

In any other moment, Ross would have laughed, but all he could do now was let out a miserable little moan.

"Hey, cheer up!" said Phoebe. "Just because you might not ever have this moment with Emily doesn't mean you won't have it with anyone."

"But I want it with Emily," said Ross.

"There are other fish in the sea!" Phoebe insisted. "Like Rachel."

"Phoebe, Rachel and I are over."

"Why?" asked Phoebe. "You two were great together! And she loves you, and deep down I think you still love her–"

"Phoebe, it's not going to happen," Ross said firmly.

"Alright, fine," said Phoebe with a shrug. "I'm just saying you have options."

The door swung open and Dr. Harad entered the room. "How are we doing, Phoebe?" he asked.

Ross tuned out as the doctor un-muted Happy Days and began to ask Phoebe some questions. He returned to his fantasy of having another child, but this time the face of his wife flickered between Emily and Rachel.

Night had already fallen when Monica, Chandler, and Rachel stumbled through the doors of the hospital. They said their hellos to Phoebe, who was overjoyed that they made it before the arrival of the babies.

The room quickly became overcrowded with the five friends, Frank, Dr. Harad, and a few nurses, so it wasn't long before they excused themselves from the room. Ross stayed behind with Phoebe, for which Monica was greatly relieved. She didn't want to deal with the tension between them right now.

Chandler and Monica now sat on a couch in the waiting room, sipping bitter (but complementary) hospital coffee. Rachel had gone off to engage in her favorite hospital activity: flirting with doctors. It wasn't long before she returned, triumphantly waving a slip of paper over her head.

"I just got the number of a really cute nurse!" she exclaimed.

"A male nurse?" asked Chandler. "You have a date with a murse?"

"First of all," Rachel began, "a murse is a male purse, not a male nurse. Second, yes, he is a male nurse, and he is very cute. And third no, I don't have a date quite yet. First I have to run it by my decision maker." She turned to Monica and raised her eyebrows hopefully.

"I think going on a date with the nurse is a great idea," Monica said approvingly.

"Great!" said Rachel, clapping her hands together as she sat down on the chair across from Chandler and Monica. "He saw you earlier, you know," she said to Monica. "He has a cute nurse friend and he wanted to know if we could double-date. But I told him you were taken!"

"I sure am!" exclaimed Monica, taking Chandler's hand in hers. He smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Rachel gazed at the two of them adoringly. "You two are so cute," she said.

Her last few words were drowned out by the wail of a newborn baby. The three of them looked up and watched as a nurse pushed a mother and her new child through the room in a wheelchair.

"That is an impossibly small little human," Chandler said.

It took all of Monica's willpower not to look at Chandler in this moment. She had been extra cautious all day not to let on how much she wanted a baby of her own. They hadn't been together long, but being her current boyfriend did mean by definition that he was the number one most likely candidate for the future father of her children. Of course, she couldn't ever reveal that she was thinking that; Chandler was so skittish about commitment that he was liable to jump ship if she even looked at him the wrong way, so she waited for what she felt was an appropriate amount of time before turning back to face him and Rachel.

"Remember the last time we were all here together?" Rachel asked. "When Ben was born?"

"Yeah," said Monica wistfully. "I can't believe that was three whole years ago. He's so big now!"

"Yeah," said Rachel. "Monica, remember how upset you were then about not having a baby yourself?"

Monica froze. She thought she knew where Rachel was going with this. Stop talking, Rachel. Please stop talking.

But Rachel did not stop talking. "And then Chandler said if you never got married, he'd have a baby with you?"

Monica felt Chandler tense up next to her.

"And then you got all mad at him because you thought he was implying you'd never get married," Rachel continued, laughing. "It's funny because now you two could actually have a baby!"

Well, that felt like the nail in the coffin. Faster than lighting, Chandler snatched his hand out of Monica's and put as much distance between them on the couch as possible.

"That's a pretty big maybe, isn't it?" he asked, his voice slightly high-pitched and hoarse.

"Yeah, Rachel, we've only barely been dating for two weeks," Monica said with a nervous laugh, trying to sound casual.

"Well, yeah," Rachel agreed. "It would be a while, but I'm just saying–"

But Chandler didn't even hear her. "I said when we're forty," he yelped, his voice raising as he jumped off the couch. "When we're FORTY!"

"Chandler, calm down," Monica said, standing up to get eye level with him.

"Calm?" he said. "I'm totally calm. You know what? Who's hungry? I am. I could go for some hospital cafeteria Jell-O right now. That would really hit the spot. Anyone want Jell-O? I'm gonna get some Jell-O. Okay? Okay! See ya!"

With that, he leapt over the couch and ran from the room. Monica watched him go. It was probably best to give him some cool-down time before she tried to talk to him.

"I know you're falling in love with him," Rachel commented once Chandler was long gone, "but that guy does have some serious problems."

Monica whirled on her. "Why would you say that?" she demanded.

"I'm just saying, normal people don't react like–"

"No," said Monica, "I mean why on earth would you bring up the idea of us having a baby? You know what Chandler's like!"

Rachel stared back at her in shock. "I'm sorry, Mon," she said. "I didn't realize it would be such a big shock to him. Everyone knows you want kids, and you two are together… seems like the thought would have crossed his mind. Besides, it's not like I was saying you had to get started right now."

"Chandler doesn't think logically about the future!" Monica exclaimed. "You can't bring this stuff up out of the blue to him! You need to work him up to it! He's like… he's like a frog! You have to warm the water slowly!"

"Hmm," said Rachel patronizingly, crossing one arm and putting her finger to her chin. "Okay, see, you lost me at the frog part."

Monica let out a frustrated breath before explaining. "If you want to boil a frog," she said, "you can't just toss it into boiling water. It'll know the water is too hot and jump right out."

"Do you boil frogs a lot at your restaurant?" Rachel asked, her lips curling in disgust.

"But if you put the frog in room temperature water and then start to boil it," Monica continued, ignoring her question, "the frog won't notice the change over time. It will stay in the pot and it will boil to death."

"And this is relevant because…?"

"Chandler is like the frog," Monica repeated. "If you start throwing the idea of commitment and marriage and babies and whatnot at him right away, he's going to freak out and end the relationship. But, if I let him get comfortable and slowly acclimate him to the idea–"

"He'll boil to death?" Rachel asked with a grimace.

"He'll accept it," Monica corrected. "He'll be in too deep to want to leave, and before he knows it we'll be married with four kids!"

Monica put her hands on her hips, proud of her flawless logic and clever metaphor, but Rachel only stared back at her skeptically.

"Uh, Monica, sweetie," she said, clearing her throat, "do you hear yourself right now?"

"Yeah," said Monica. "Are you hearing me right now? Because I have the perfect plan and I'm going to need for you not to mess it up again."

"Perfect plan?" Rachel scoffed. "Monica, you have to be upfront with Chandler about what you want. He's a little skittish, sure, but he's a reasonable guy, and I think if you just talk it out, then–"

"If we talk it out, he is going to leave," Monica insisted.

"I'm sorry, Mon, I just don't think any plan involving boiling your boyfriend alive is a good one!"

"What do you know?" Monica snorted. "You tried to stop your ex-boyfriend's wedding and now suddenly you're the relationship guru?"

"Wow," said Rachel. "You're just as bad as I am."

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Monica.

"It means," said Rachel, "I don't think I want you to be in charge of my love life anymore."

Ross and Frank were on their way to get more ice chips for Phoebe and a little snack for themselves when they ran into Chandler–literally. Chandler was careening down the hospital hallway and, not looking where he was going, collided with Ross before he had the chance to step out of the way.

"Sorry," Chandler mumbled, barely even looking at Ross before he attempted to rush down the hallway again.

"Woah, hold on," said Ross, grabbing his friend by the shoulders to block his exit. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Nowhere!" Chandler said quickly. "Cafeteria! Jell-O!"

Frank looked apprehensively down the hall, as if trying to see what Chandler might have been running from. Ross just figured he drank a little too much coffee–his breath reeked of it.

"Okay, well, can the Jell-O wait?" Ross asked. "I actually wanted to talk to you."

Chandler looked back at him warily. "About Monica again? Because if you're going to tell me not to see her–"

"No, it's not about that," said Ross.

"Are you sure?" asked Chandler, a frantic look in his eyes. "Are you sure you aren't going to tell me to break it off with her right now before I'm in too deep? Because–because I'm definitely not about to do that!"

"What?" asked Ross. "No. I wanted to talk to you about Joey."

"Oh," said Chandler, calming down slightly but still looking a bit jumpy. "Is he alright? I haven't seen him yet today."

"Actually, no, he's not. He's got kidney stones," Ross informed him. "They're treating him in room 403. I told him I'd send you to see him when you got here."

Chandler raised his eyebrows. "He wants to see me?"

"Sure he does," said Ross. "You're best friends."

Chandler crossed his arms. "So are we, but you don't want to talk to me much these days either."

Somewhere in Ross's mind, he knew this might be a good time to clear the air between them. Unfortunately, he had had a long, stressful day, and he just couldn't deal with that emotional load.

"Look, he needs support and I promised I wouldn't leave Phoebe," Ross said impatiently. "Just go see him."

"Don't tell me what to do," Chandler snarled.

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, I'm just suggesting–"

"Like you just suggested I stop seeing Monica?" Chandler retorted.

"I'm not talking about Monica," Ross snapped. "I'm talking about Joey, your friend who really needs you right now."

Chandler glared at him for a moment. "Fine," he muttered finally. "But this doesn't mean you're right about everything." He turned on his heel and walked briskly out of sight.

"Woah," said Frank once he had gone. "What was all that about?"

Ross snapped his head around to look at him in surprise. He had forgotten Frank was standing there, and he was slightly embarrassed at having fought with Chandler in front of Phoebe's brother.

"Nothing," Ross mumbled uncomfortably. "It's just this whole thing… I'm sure you don't want to hear about it." He started again toward the cafeteria.

Frank quickly caught up to him. "Actually, I kinda do," he said. "See, Phoebe asked me to name my second son after Chandler, but if he's like, a bad person or a jerk or something like that, then maybe I don't wanna."

"He's not–he's not a bad person," Ross said, surprised that Frank would leap to that conclusion. "He's still my friend."

"So then why are you fighting?" asked Frank.

"He just, uh… he did something that upset me," Ross said.

"What did he do?" asked Frank. This kid was relentless.

Ross gave in with a sigh. "He's dating Monica."

"And that's bad because… you wanted to date Monica or somethin'?"

"What? No! Monica's my sister!" Ross exclaimed.

"Oh!" Frank said. "See, I didn't know that. I don't really know you guys all that well."

Ross just grunted in response.

"So… you're mad that he's dating your sister?" Frank prompted when it was clear that Ross wasn't about to elaborate. "Why?"

"Because you don't date your friend's sisters."

"Why?"

"I don't know, you just don't," Ross sighed in exasperation. "I mean, you have a sister. How would you feel if one of your friends started dating Phoebe?"

"Oh, that would be so cool!" Frank's eyes lit up as he considered the possibility.

"Ah, you don't get it," Ross said dismissively. "It's different when it's your younger sister."

"Nah, I get it!" Frank insisted. "See, I have this friend Mark, and if he and Phoebe were together, that would be like, so cool, because I love Phoebe, y'know, and I also love my friend Mark, and if they were together it would be, like, two great people together. And I'd be happy for Mark because I know he's with this great girl, and I'd be happy for Phoebe because I'd know she's with this great guy. And then if they got married, Mark would be like my brother, and that would be the best thing ever…"

Ross stopped walking and considered this. Frank continued to ramble. Frank had dumbed down the situation and he was surprised at how much clearer it now seemed. Maybe he was overcomplicating things.

"...and all I'm saying is," Frank was saying when Ross tuned back in, "if Chandler's a good guy, then it seems like you should be happy they're together, right?"

"Yeah," said Ross quietly. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

They walked the rest of the way to the cafeteria in silence. Frank had given him a lot to think about.