Medical Center. Emergency Room.
Adam was patching up Ross's injuries.
The wounds on Ross's face looked pretty bad, but thankfully, they were mostly surface-level. Of course, the emotional bruising from that fancy French restaurant? That's not something Adam could fix with a bandage.
"OMG! What happened?!" Monica and the gang rushed in, jaws dropping when they saw Ross all banged up.
Adam chuckled and filled them in on the story.
"That's outrageous!" Monica snapped. He's her big brother, after all—she can slug him, but no one else gets a free pass. "We've got adults in the family, you know. I'll go sort this guy out!" She rolled up her sleeves, ready to march over and give someone a piece of her mind.
"Whoa, easy there," Adam said, calming her down. "It's not like the guy meant to do it. Ross kinda brought this on himself—single as a pringle but still waltzing into a couples-only spot. He's not totally innocent here."
"So this is my fault now?" Ross threw his hands up, incredulous.
"You're saying it's not?" Adam grinned. "Your daughter's about to pop into the world, and instead of being there for her mom, you're reminiscing at your ex's favorite restaurant. Then, when it feels off, you don't leave—you stick around, flirting with a cute waitress over a couples' meal. Getting clocked by her boyfriend? Yeah, you had that coming."
"You—!" Ross sputtered, fuming. "You're still taking Rachel's side! I've said it a hundred times: I asked her. She didn't want to get back together. It's not like I refused her!"
"Oh, really?" Adam gave him a long, knowing look. "Sure, you've explained it a hundred times now. But back then? You asked her once, half-heartedly, like 'Oh, if Rachel hesitates even a little, I'm out.' Ask Monica and Phoebe—if they were Rachel, would they have said yes?"
Rachel, pregnant and living alone in Ross's apartment, hadn't been called, so she wasn't there.
"No way," Monica and Phoebe said in unison, shaking their heads.
Women pick up on that stuff—whether a guy's sincere or just going through the motions. And whether they fall for it? That's up to them. Rachel, clearly, has her pride.
"And don't forget Mona," Adam added. "If I remember right, you asked Rachel, and that same night, you hooked up with Mona. How do you know Rachel didn't swing by later to talk after saying no?"
"What?!" Ross's brain short-circuited. "Rachel came looking for me?"
"Who knows?" Adam shrugged. "If she did, and saw you already cozying up with Mona right after asking her, she probably just slipped out quietly."
"Rachel…" Monica and Phoebe sighed sympathetically, feeling her pain.
"Here's the thing," Adam said with a shake of his head. "You move way too fast."
"…" Ross had no comeback.
And no, Adam wasn't just ribbing him about his stamina (though that was fair game too). Emotionally, Ross was a speed demon. Asking Rachel one minute, jumping to Mona the next? It wasn't even the first time. Back when he and Rachel broke up, he'd stormed off that night and brought home some random woman from a bar. Talk about seamless transitions.
"Ross, you're in your mid-thirties, man," Adam said, laying it on straight. "Even Joey's toning it down these days. How long are you gonna keep playing the field? You used to gripe about Ben being raised by a pair of lesbians—now you've got a shot at giving Emma a normal, happy family from day one. But you just brush it off, barely trying. Is that really okay?"
"I…" Ross opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"Adam's right," Monica said, slinging an arm around Ross's shoulders. "You need to think hard about this."
"Totally," Phoebe chimed in. "You two are each other's lobsters—meant to be!"
Ross's lips twitched into a small smile. That lobster bit? It started way back when the six of them first got tight—him crushing hard on Rachel, and Phoebe tossing out that line to cheer him up.
"Give it some thought," Adam said, clapping Ross on the shoulder before heading off. The ER wasn't exactly short on patients.
"Mr. Harold, what bit you?" Adam asked, flipping through a chart as he stepped into the next room.
"Oh, my pet snake," replied a chubby, goofy-looking white guy sitting there with a dopey grin.
"Pet snake?" Adam blinked, startled. "What kind?"
Americans are wild—keeping all sorts of crazy pets just for kicks. And pet snakes? A lot of them aren't harmless little garters. Nope, people go for the venomous ones—cobras, you name it. Stuff normal folks run from, they keep as houseguests. Oh, and here's a fun tidbit: pat-reon:belamy20—support some cool creators if you're into that! Anyway, back to the snake guy…
"Golden eyelash rattlesnake," the dude said, still grinning like an idiot.
"…" Adam's mouth twitched. Forget the fancy "golden eyelash" part—rattlesnake? That's a big, bold, venomous name right there. This guy got bit and was still chipper? Total goofball.
"Mr. Harold, are you feeling weak, nauseous, or shivery?" Adam asked, getting down to business.
"Nope," Harold shook his head.
"Where's the bite?"
Harold stuck out his arm. "Wanna see my little baby?" he asked, all giddy.
"Huh?" Adam's eyes narrowed. "You brought it here?" Then he spotted the paper bag by Harold's side and instinctively took a few steps back—old-school snake fear kicking in.
"Yup!" Harold beamed, lifting the bag. "Snakes are cold-blooded, so I kept it under a heat lamp. Huh, it was just here a second ago—where'd it go?"
"How big is it?" Adam asked, scanning the room like a hawk.
"Three feet," Harold replied casually.
Holy—! That's a meter-long beast!
"Carol, call animal control now," Adam barked, cursing under his breath. "Tell all staff to stay alert, and get Mr. Harold some antivenom, stat."
"Yes, Dr. Duncan," Nurse Carol said, already dialing.
"Hang tight," Adam told Harold, forcing a tight smile before ducking out of the room. That goofy grin was not helping.
"Monica, Chandler, take Ross and get outta here," Adam said, tracking down his friends and spilling the news about a loose venomous snake slithering around the hospital.
"OMG!" Ross and the gang were ready to bolt, but Phoebe lingered, looking worried. "What are you gonna do with the pet snake?" she asked, genuinely concerned for the critter.
"Don't worry," Adam said with a laugh, used to her soft spot by now. "Animal control's on it—they'll handle it properly."
"Good," Phoebe nodded, finally letting Monica drag her off.
After seeing them out, Adam returned to chaos—hospital staff were already hunting for the snake. With so many people in the ER, including kids, waiting for animal control could be a disaster.