The light in her eyes tends to go in and out, as if it were headlights flashing on a car. Mike never brings the conversation he had with his father up to her, and she tries her damnedest to act as if everything was back to normal, to the way it was before any of this had happened. She'd gotten so good at the lying and the hiding that she'd almost started to believe it herself. But even she knows that a game can only be played for so long before the rest of the players start to catch on.

….

It's a typical night at the Gellar-Bing household with Monica and Ross arguing over something that happened in their childhood, Rachel flipping through a magazine and Joey as per usual, stuffing his face with whatever food he could get his hands on. Mike was off on another gig, wearily so and Phoebe sat quietly on the sofa-as if in a daze. As she continued to wade through bits and pieces of the night or day or week she had spent in the hotel, she felt herself retread deeper into the depths of her mind. She had come so close, multiple times to just blurting out what she knew to Mike, to her friends, hell-even to Gunther but every time she opened her mouth-nothing came out.

As she twisted her body further into the couch and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, it was as if time had stopped. The room fell silent and all eyes landed on her, some bewildered, some puzzled, and others not able to comprehend what had just fell from her lips. As Phoebe swallowed back the lump in her throat and wrung her hands together she had to mentally check back in with herself to make sure that what she had just uttered had actually happened and that she wasn't going delusional or anything but Monica, as always, is quick to confirm that yes-she had just said allowed what she thought she had.

"I'm sorry, you what?" There was hints of disbelief and shock and almost a bit of anger tangled up in each other in her voice. Phoebe exhales forcefully through her mouth, watching as her bangs flap in front of her face.

"I was attacked."

The room falls silent again, but only for a few seconds before Rachel rushes her way around to the couch to sit beside her. "What? When was this? Where was this? Did Mike do this?" Phoebe finds herself mentally laughing at the other blonde. That's Rachel all right, always the frantic one who has to ask a million and one questions.

Phoebe takes a breath and after a moment, decides to answer each question one at a time-watching as everyone has slowly made their way around her. She tries to sink further into the couch, feeling a bit anxious about the amount of bodies surrounding her. In truth, she thinks-she's not quite sure why out of the blue she found herself telling them and yet she hasn't even confirmed it with Mike, who she's almost sure was aware of what was going on by now-or at least had an idea. In fact, she didn't even plan to say anything-it was almost as if it was an out of body experience. Like she was watching from above as someone else inhabited her body. She had found the words falling like a storm surge hitting an unsuspecting city-once it started, it couldn't be stopped. It was violent and angry and full of despair and betrayal.

"It wasn't Mike," She states a few moments later. "He would never," She pauses, swallowing the rushing rise of bile in her throat. No, she thought-for once she wanted to be able to finish something she started and she was going to make damn sure she wasn't interrupted in the process. "It was about four months ago. I don't know where I was, other than a hotel room but I had no clue what part of the state I was in or if I was even still in the state. I never bothered to find out, I don't think I wanted to. I don't remember much because he must have drugged me with something, but I remember bits and pieces and I know who it is but if you don't mind, I'd really rather not discuss that part."

"Why didn't you come to us sooner?" Monica asks, still a bit bewildered by everything. As she takes a quick look around the room, she's somewhat grateful to find she isn't the only one in that state of mind. Phoebe shrugs, sniffling. She wasn't aware she had been crying until Rachel had reached over to wipe the tears from her face-her own eyes glossy and moist.

"I don't know...I tried, multiple times. I just-couldn't."

"Pheebs-" Chandler beings, but stops a second later after she shakes her head.

"Please don't. Don't look at me like that, don't talk to me like that. I don't want pity, I'll be okay-I just...Mike..." She pauses, a sob echoing throughout the room as it rips from her chest like a tree being ripped from its foundation. "Mike doesn't know and I know this is a lot to ask but please, please don't say anything. I don't want him finding out from anyone but me. It's not right, it's not fair to him."

"Wait, Mike doesn't know?" Ross asks, surprise evident. Phoebe shakes her head, a longing sigh falling from her lips.

"No. I...It's just that so much has happened lately that I can't-" She pauses again as another sob echoes the room.

Chandler quickly puts up a hand to stop her.

"You don't have to say anything else. We may not understand a lot of this, but whatever you need-we've got your back. You know that right?" He questions, his voice holding nothing but the utmost sincerity.

Phoebe flashes him a quick, faint smile and nods.

"I know."

"Do you want us to be there when you tell him? I mean, he comes home tomorrow-are you going to tell him then?" Joey asks. He feels sick to his stomach, and exhales through his nose. He will never fully understand how someone could do this to Phoebe of all people. Sweet, innocent Phoebe.

"No, no I—I should do this by myself, but thank you." She mumbles. Joey merely nods, unsure of what else to say. He's still trying to wrap his head around everything that she's said to them.

"It's late," Phoebe says after a beat. "I should get home."

She stands to her feet not a second later and folds up the blanket she had wrapped herself in. Everyone else immediately jumps to their feet as well. "Well why don't we drive you," Chandler offers. Phoebe flashes him a quick smile as she turns to face them all again.

"I'm perfectly cable of getting home on my own, and that's out of your way. Thank you, but I'll be alright-honestly."

"Well, can we at least wait with you until the cab gets here?" Monica asks, eagerly. Phoebe chuckles lightly, nodding.

"I'm certainly not going to stand out there in the freezing cold Mon," She says with a small smirk. Monica grins.

"I'll go call a cab," Ross offers before walking off to make the phone call.

"Promise you'll let us know when you get home? And that you'll lock all the doors and stuff?" Rachel pleads, worriedly. Phoebe nods.

"I'll text you."

….

It doesn't take long for the cab to get to where she was and she quickly jumps in and tells the driver the address before settling into her seat-closing her eyes. It's been a long day, she muses, and she feels slightly better then she had previously. The aching, gnawing feeling in her chest however, still resides as she comes to the realization that if she doesn't tell Mike soon-there's a strong chance that it could come falling out of someone else and she can't have that.

As she hands the driver the money and heads inside to her apartment, locking all the doors and checking all the windows before sending off a quick text to Rachel as promised-she nods to herself in assurance.

Tomorrow, she says to herself quietly. Tomorrow she will tell him.