A week after the funeral. A whole week. A whole, sleepless, tiring, depressing week. If he hadn't remembered what a good night's rest was like before all this happened, Joey Tribbiani definitely didn't now. A wail drug him out of his trance and he wearily sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He glanced at the clock, pulling away the covers. Two-forty in the morning. She always woke up around two in the morning, even before Rachel had committed suicide, when she was still taking the sleeping pills and slept right through it. Except she knew he got up every night to take care of Emma because he couldn't just leave the poor girl there in her crib to cry. Ross hadn't cared enough to take care of Emma, and before she'd gone through with the suicide she had transferred custody to Joey as the sole guardian.

Rachel.

A numb feeling stung him as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes for a moment. He got out of bed then. He opened his door, which creaked faintly, and made his way toward the sounds of Emma's cries. He bent over the crib, feeling her little hands wrap around one of his fingers and smiled a little. "Hey, what's wrong tonight, jelly bean?" he whispered, pulling her out of the crib and cradling her in his arms. She let out a cry, staring up at him with big, blue eyes. Just like Rachel's. His hands trembled slightly at the sudden realization but he was careful to get himself back under control. Well, at least he was facing the music of reality, but his friends were already shocked by the change. From a week he'd gone from constantly bringing a woman home to a little more grown up, at the least.

He stared down at the bundle, beginning to do as Chandler had once when the baby's cries had woken him, and walked around the room, swaying a bit, talking to her in a hushed voice. Emma began to quiet, holding onto his finger tightly, her mouth forming a small "o". After she had quieted, she stayed so for a few long moments, blinking up at him, not even looking very tired yet. What she said next broke his heart, "Mama!"

She'd said that the day of the funeral, too. Three times. He'd cried, holding her, telling her that her mother wasn't going to be back. Of course, she couldn't understand. So he just locked his eyes on her now, continuing to cradle her, rock her back and forth a bit. "She's not here." he said quietly, voice trembling. He was doing everything she should be doing as a mother. But she wasn't here.

"Mama! Mama!"

Joey shook his head frantically, shushing her as her voice grew louder. "She's not here." he repeated, and Emma stared up at him, seeming to search his eyes. Distraught that her mother wasn't coming to take care of her after he'd held her for a few more moments, she began to bawl again, wailing at the top of her lungs. Joey winced, knowing it would wake up Monica and Chandler. "Shh. Shh! You'll wake up Aunt Monica and Uncle Chandler."

She didn't listen. Her wails got louder, her voice growing hoarse from using it so much when she was still developing. He didn't know what to do, rocking her in his arms, biting his lip. He looked up when he heard a knock on the door. "It's open." he mumbled, and he heard the knob turn and noticed Chandler come in out of the corner of his eye. "Sorry."

He noticed a softness in Chandler's voice when he spoke. "What's wrong this time? Monica's cranky."

"She wants her mom, Chandler! What am I supposed to do?!"

Chandler raised his hand defensively. "I know, I know. She's just..not used to it yet. She doesn't understand."

Joey was quiet, didn't have anything to say. Of course she didn't. She was barely over a year old. Emma's wails brought him back to reality and he sat down in his armchair, sighing. He began to bounce her on his knee, blinking the gunk from his eyes. "This is so hard. I'm not cut out for this.."

"Maybe you're not, but Rachel was right. You do love her."

He only nodded, silently agreeing. Yeah, he guessed he did. Loved her with all his heart. Even more so now that Rachel was gone, one of the only things he had left of her, besides her dresses. He hadn't been able to trash them. They'd been too important to her. Instead, they now hung neatly in her closet, and he made sure to keep them nice and clean. Though, her bed still had the same sheets. Her favorite ones. He couldn't go in her room anymore, it pained him. He'd even moved the crib to the living room beside his room. He really should move it into his room. He'd do it later.

He must have spaced out, because when he looked down again, Emma was blinking tiredly, making small hiccups, her cries beginning to cease. He sighed again, this time relieved. "I don't think Monica will have any more disturbances. Sorry, buddy." he managed in a tight voice. Chandler nodded, turning to leave, stopping for a moment. He'd read the suicide note she'd left with him, and knew Joey had had feelings for her.

"Joey?"

"Yeah?"

"...What were you guys?"

Joey bit his lip, beginning to cradle Emma in his arms again as he headed toward the crib, setting her in it. It was a good question. He took some time to think it through as he pulled the soft blanket over the baby, tucking Hugsy next to her. He'd finally given up his pang of jealousy that he had when Emma had Hugsy, giving the stuffed penguin to her full-time. He owed that much to Rachel. He smiled a bit, remembering the time they'd called themselves a "gang". So, naturally, he found his reply there.

"We were the Cobras."