The familiar purple door of Friends’ apartment 20 is cracked open, laughter spilling into the hallway.

Inside, Chandler Bing is pacing in front of the couch, hands flying as he gestures dramatically.

“I’m just saying,” he insists, voice climbing an octave, “every time we hang out she falls asleep. On the couch. On my shoulder. During a movie. One time during one of my jokes, which—rude.”

Joey Tribbiani looks up from his sandwich. “To be fair, some of your jokes do that to me too.”

Chandler shoots him a look. “Thank you, Joseph. Very helpful.”

On the armchair, Ross Geller adjusts his posture like he’s about to give a lecture. “Maybe she’s just tired?”

“She’s always tired, Ross!” Chandler throws his hands up. “It’s like I’m some kind of human NyQuil.”

From the kitchen doorway, Rachel Green shakes her head gently. “Chandler. A sleepy woman in your presence isn’t bored.”

He blinks. “I’m sorry, what? Because my brain heard that but my insecurity rejected it.”

Rachel steps closer, her tone soft but firm. “She feels safe around you, Chan.”

The room quiets.

“You know how her home life was,” Rachel continues. “How she’s always been on edge, always waiting for something to go wrong. Around you, she doesn’t have to do that. You regulate her entire nervous system.”

Chandler frowns slightly, sarcasm faltering. “I regulate… things?”

“Yes,” Rachel nods. “She knows you’ll never let anyone or anything hurt her. So when she’s with you, her body finally relaxes. And when someone’s been tense for that long? Relaxing feels like exhaustion.”

On the couch, Monica Geller smiles knowingly. “It’s like when you finally unclench a muscle you didn’t even realize you were tightening.”

Chandler swallows, gaze dropping. “So… she’s not bored.”

“No,” Rachel says softly. “She’s safe.”

From the window seat, Phoebe Buffay nods dreamily. “It’s like when a stray cat finally finds a warm lap. It doesn’t fall asleep because the lap is boring. It falls asleep because it’s not afraid anymore.”

Joey pauses mid-bite. “Wow. That was… surprisingly not weird.”

Phoebe beams. “Growth.”

Chandler runs a hand through his hair, his usual smirk replaced with something more vulnerable. “She curls up into me,” he admits quietly. “Like she’s trying to get as close as possible. Sometimes she mumbles stuff in her sleep. Like she’s checking if I’m still there.”

Monica’s expression softens. “Because she trusts you.”

Ross adds, “You make her feel secure.”

Chandler lets out a shaky huff of a laugh. “So instead of being Human NyQuil, I’m… Human Safety Blanket?”

Joey points at him. “That’s way better.”

Rachel steps closer, nudging his arm. “You’ve always been the guy who makes jokes when things get hard. But with her, you’re steady. You’re calm. You’re… home.”

That lands differently.

Chandler blinks a few times, clearly fighting emotion with instinctive humor. “Well. That’s… inconveniently heartwarming.”

Monica stands and squeezes his shoulder. “Go home to her, Chandler.”

He nods slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.”

As he heads for the door, Joey calls after him, “Hey! If she falls asleep again, that’s a good thing!”

Chandler pauses, turning with a softer expression than usual. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I know.”

And for once, he doesn’t make a joke.