Man, I am really bad about getting these things written in a timely manner.....sorry about that!
I own no "Freinds" characters, or the title of this chapter(it's a song lyric).
Chandler gripped Monica's hand tightly as they entered the police station. They walked to
the front desk and asked for Sgt. Fernandez. They were led down a narrow, badly lit
corridor, and left to wait in a small office overlooking the busy street below. Chandler took a
deep, shakey breath and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure that he could really go through with this.
Monica looked at Chandler, trying to read what he was thinking. His eyes were closed and
his hand was gripping hers so tightly that she could no longer feel her fingertips. She
felt bad about asking him to ease up, so she was relieved when Sgt. Fernandez came in and
introduced herself. Chandler released Monica's hand and introduced both himself and Monica.
"Okay, so here is what we have Mr. Bing," Sgt. Fernandez started, "We have one man in custody,
which we'd like you to try and ID. We'd also like you to look at mug shots, because we think that
his accomplice is one of your attackers as well. Once we know more about what you know, we will
bring in the DA, and she will decide where to go next."
"Okay," was all that Chandler was able to say. He felt his throat close up and his mouth dry up.
Chandler was led to another part of the building, leaving Monica to wait in the lobby. She wanted to
go with him, but he asked her not to. He felt like he needed to do this by himself.
He walked into a darkened room, and sat down on a small metal chair in the center of the room.
He faced the window in front of him, as six suspects were led into the lineup. Chandler recognized
his attacker immediatly. It was the ring-leader, the one who had asked him for change initially.
As soon as he saw him, he felt as though the man was looking directly at him. Of course he knew that
the men couldn't see through the mirrored glass, but Chandler could not shake the feeling that the man's
dark eyes were boring into his head. Again he felt his hands shaking, as beads of sweat formed on his
brow.
"Are you okay sir?" the deputy asked.
"Huh? Oh, yeah."
"Can you identify your assailant for us?"
Chandler nodded. "Number 4."
"Are you sure?"
"Definitly."
"Thank you Sir. Please wait here while we clear the suspects."
Chandler sighed heavily. His hands were still trembling. His head was throbbing, the way it had been
that morning in the alley. He closed his eyes, and tried desperately to regain control.
*
Monica watched people walk in and out of the police station. She wondered how Chandler was doing.
She looked down the hallway, and hoped that he was okay in there. Suddenly, a door opened, and
Sgt. Fernandez led Chandler out into the hallway. Monica noticed immediately that he did not look good.
He was very pale, and looked like he wanted to throw up. Monica knew that look. Chandler looked that
way that morning, when he returned from his walk. The sergeant sat Chandler down on a bench in the hallway,
and Monica rushed over to his side.
"Sweetie, are you okay?"
Chandler didn't answer. He couldn't.
"Chandler?" Still nothing. "Can we leave now?" Monica asked Sergeant Fernandez.
"Let me get Chandler some water. He seems to have had some kind of anxiety attack. Let's make sure he's
okay first."
"I'm okay." Chandler croaked. "I just want to go home."
"We will be contacting you at your hotel Mr. Bing," the sergeant said softly, "Please call me if you
need anything."
"Thank you," Monica said, as she led Chandler out into the lobby.
*
Monica and Chandler walked down California Street in silence. Monica wasn't sure what to say.
When they reached their hotel, Chandler stopped and turned to Monica.
"I'm sorry, Mon. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"You have a lot to deal with here, Chandler. There's nothing wrong with you. You couldn't deal with
the effects of your attack before, because you couldn't remember it. And now that you can, this trip
has made that day very real for you. It's going to take time for you to heal."
"Thank you Monica. I appreciate that."
Monica smiled, and wrapped her arms around Chandler's neck. He smiled at her, and for the first time
that day, he felt at ease.
Suddenly, a beat up Oldsmobile came flying around the corner, tires screeching. The car swirved up onto the
sidewalk, knocking over mail boxes and crashing into a bus stop. Chandler looked up, as the car headed
toward him and Monica. He grabbed Monica's arm and pulled her up the hotel steps. The car narrowly missed
them, and continued down the sidewalk.
Monica sat up, and shook her head. What the hell was that? She turned and looked at Chandler, who was staring
out onto the street.
"Chandler? Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Chandler replied, but his hands were shaking again.
Monica took Chandler's hands, and tried her best to calm him. She looked around for help, but the speeding
car had caused chaos up and down the block. She wrapped her arms around him, and prayed that the trembling
would stop, and that the love of her life would come back to her soon.
I own no "Freinds" characters, or the title of this chapter(it's a song lyric).
Chandler gripped Monica's hand tightly as they entered the police station. They walked to
the front desk and asked for Sgt. Fernandez. They were led down a narrow, badly lit
corridor, and left to wait in a small office overlooking the busy street below. Chandler took a
deep, shakey breath and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure that he could really go through with this.
Monica looked at Chandler, trying to read what he was thinking. His eyes were closed and
his hand was gripping hers so tightly that she could no longer feel her fingertips. She
felt bad about asking him to ease up, so she was relieved when Sgt. Fernandez came in and
introduced herself. Chandler released Monica's hand and introduced both himself and Monica.
"Okay, so here is what we have Mr. Bing," Sgt. Fernandez started, "We have one man in custody,
which we'd like you to try and ID. We'd also like you to look at mug shots, because we think that
his accomplice is one of your attackers as well. Once we know more about what you know, we will
bring in the DA, and she will decide where to go next."
"Okay," was all that Chandler was able to say. He felt his throat close up and his mouth dry up.
Chandler was led to another part of the building, leaving Monica to wait in the lobby. She wanted to
go with him, but he asked her not to. He felt like he needed to do this by himself.
He walked into a darkened room, and sat down on a small metal chair in the center of the room.
He faced the window in front of him, as six suspects were led into the lineup. Chandler recognized
his attacker immediatly. It was the ring-leader, the one who had asked him for change initially.
As soon as he saw him, he felt as though the man was looking directly at him. Of course he knew that
the men couldn't see through the mirrored glass, but Chandler could not shake the feeling that the man's
dark eyes were boring into his head. Again he felt his hands shaking, as beads of sweat formed on his
brow.
"Are you okay sir?" the deputy asked.
"Huh? Oh, yeah."
"Can you identify your assailant for us?"
Chandler nodded. "Number 4."
"Are you sure?"
"Definitly."
"Thank you Sir. Please wait here while we clear the suspects."
Chandler sighed heavily. His hands were still trembling. His head was throbbing, the way it had been
that morning in the alley. He closed his eyes, and tried desperately to regain control.
*
Monica watched people walk in and out of the police station. She wondered how Chandler was doing.
She looked down the hallway, and hoped that he was okay in there. Suddenly, a door opened, and
Sgt. Fernandez led Chandler out into the hallway. Monica noticed immediately that he did not look good.
He was very pale, and looked like he wanted to throw up. Monica knew that look. Chandler looked that
way that morning, when he returned from his walk. The sergeant sat Chandler down on a bench in the hallway,
and Monica rushed over to his side.
"Sweetie, are you okay?"
Chandler didn't answer. He couldn't.
"Chandler?" Still nothing. "Can we leave now?" Monica asked Sergeant Fernandez.
"Let me get Chandler some water. He seems to have had some kind of anxiety attack. Let's make sure he's
okay first."
"I'm okay." Chandler croaked. "I just want to go home."
"We will be contacting you at your hotel Mr. Bing," the sergeant said softly, "Please call me if you
need anything."
"Thank you," Monica said, as she led Chandler out into the lobby.
*
Monica and Chandler walked down California Street in silence. Monica wasn't sure what to say.
When they reached their hotel, Chandler stopped and turned to Monica.
"I'm sorry, Mon. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"You have a lot to deal with here, Chandler. There's nothing wrong with you. You couldn't deal with
the effects of your attack before, because you couldn't remember it. And now that you can, this trip
has made that day very real for you. It's going to take time for you to heal."
"Thank you Monica. I appreciate that."
Monica smiled, and wrapped her arms around Chandler's neck. He smiled at her, and for the first time
that day, he felt at ease.
Suddenly, a beat up Oldsmobile came flying around the corner, tires screeching. The car swirved up onto the
sidewalk, knocking over mail boxes and crashing into a bus stop. Chandler looked up, as the car headed
toward him and Monica. He grabbed Monica's arm and pulled her up the hotel steps. The car narrowly missed
them, and continued down the sidewalk.
Monica sat up, and shook her head. What the hell was that? She turned and looked at Chandler, who was staring
out onto the street.
"Chandler? Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Chandler replied, but his hands were shaking again.
Monica took Chandler's hands, and tried her best to calm him. She looked around for help, but the speeding
car had caused chaos up and down the block. She wrapped her arms around him, and prayed that the trembling
would stop, and that the love of her life would come back to her soon.