First off, I must start with 'Happy 36th Birthday Matthew Perry! Woot! Love you!'...ahem now that i have that out the way, it's time to talk shop. I have to say sorry, this chapter is pretty short, but i just exhausted myself on the last chapter, so...and plus, i for some reason wanted to post this on Matt's birthday...don't ask, its my OCD coming into play eehehe. So yeah, this chapter was meant to be twice as long, but i decided to keep it short and simple, and add an extra chapter into my plan...by the time I'm finished, this will have 50 friggen chapters! (not really...about 34, i hope!) so please read and review, and please keep reading!

I don't own friends/characters/actors, but man oh man would i love to be the stripper that pops out of Matt's birthday cake...not that I want to be a stripper...nor am i implying that Matt would have a stripper...errr...happy birthday Matt!


Growing up, Chandler had always loved watching cartoons. Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, you name it. He had loved them. But the one cartoon he had loved to watch the most was the Looney Tunes. Bugs, Daffy, Porky; he adored them.

As much as he had adored those characters, they could never beat Wile. E. Coyote. He had been Chandler's favourite character, right from day one. Watching the Coyote chasing after the Roadrunner had always made him laugh. Later in life, Chandler had imagined that he was the Coyote; never winning, never catching the Roadrunner, always holding up his little sign before he landed in a heap on the ground, only to jump back up and try again. That had always seemed like Chandler's life.

But, when he was a kid, he had never thought like that. He had simply watched it, and laughed. He hadn't wanted the Coyote to catch the Roadrunner; it wouldn't have been right. And it would have stopped the Coyote from getting into the mishaps that he always found himself in.

Chandler loved those mishaps, whether the Coyote was getting blown up, running into a wall, or having his own boulder or anvil land on top of him. He loved them, and loved the little signs that followed.

But most of all, he loved when Wile. E. Coyote would fall off a cliff. There would always be a moment where the Coyote would hover in mid air, hold up a sign saying 'eep' or 'oops' or something to that effect. He would always have enough time to show the sign, before falling to his demise. When Chandler was 9, that had been the funniest thing in the world.

20 years later, and Chandler once again found himself feeling like Wile. E. Coyote.

When he had stepped off that ledge, there had been a moment. He had felt like he was hovering in mid air, and had been sure for a second that, had he had a sign prepared, he would have been able to hold it up for the world to see. It could have been his last joke before leaving this world; a hell of a way for Chandler Muriel Bing to go out. Always with a bang. Always with a joke. That was Chandler. It seemed like the perfect way to go.

But, like always, Chandler wasn't prepared. He hadn't prepared for the moment. And so, instead of having one last joke, Chandler had felt an intense feeling of dread wash over him; he hadn't been scared, he had wanted this. But the feeling of hovering in the air, so far up, had terrified him. He wished he had a sign to hold up, something to break the tension that his own brain was creating, but instead, he held only the blanket.

That feeling of hovering was an odd feeling, and Chandler had wished it to be over. He had wanted to fly, but this wasn't flying. It was different to flying. More like floating; hanging in the balance. He wanted it to be over; wanted him to be free. It had only lasted for a split second, but to Chandler, it had felt like eternity. He had seen countless rooftops, people walking below, unaware. Birds flying. People through their windows. Roads. Cars. Everything. He had seen everything in that split second. Heard nothing, but seen everything. In a split second.

A single moment.

And then that moment had ended, and suddenly Chandler was falling.

His heart leaped into his throat; his stomach jumped, and he thought he might vomit. The wind rushed passed him, through his ears, into his mouth and nose. His fingers tightened on the blanket, and he fell. It was an intense feeling; falling. It made him feel alive; a feeling that he treasured. He wouldn't be able to feel alive anymore.

He thought all of this in a split second, before he even fell two feet. He loved the feeling of being alive; but he loved the thought of death even more. Freedom. It was a wonderful thing. He loved the feeling of falling. But, he knew it had to end.

And it did. But not in the way Chandler wanted it to.

His feeling of falling was hastily cut off, and Chandler found himself slamming against the wall. He cried out; partly from shock, but mostly because his head struck the wall.

What the hell, he wondered, dazed. He shook his head, trying to think straight. But he couldn't. Something was wrong. Something was trickling down his face. Why wasn't he falling anymore? He thought he could hear a voice, but wasn't sure. The wind was still rushing through his ears. Why, he wasn't sure. He wasn't falling anymore.

Why wasn't he falling? How was he just hanging here?

You have got to be kidding me.

Chandler gasped, the voice surprising him. What's going on? Why the hell wasn't he falling? Why did his arms hurt?

Chandler…let go.

Chandler frowned. Let go? What? Let go of what?

Let go of the blanket!

Chandler's frown grew deeper. Blanket? What blanket?

The blanket in your hands! Let go of it.

Chandler shook his head, and suddenly it was clear. The fog was gone. The blanket.

He remembered now. If he let go, he would fall. Fall to freedom. He didn't know why he wasn't falling, but he knew he had to let go of the blanket.

Let go! Let go now! Before it's too late.

Chandler nodded and did what the voice said.

He let go.

The feeling of falling came back, the feeling of freedom. And then, once more, it was rudely taken away from him.

Chandler screamed as something grabbed his arm. He was sure for a moment that his shoulder had been pulled from its socket. Tears sprung to his eyes once more, and the pain left him dazed again. The blanket fell past, floating away.

What the…

Son of a bitch! Selfish! Fucking selfish fool!

Chandler listened to the voice in his head rage for a moment, then looked up. Joey was gripping his arm, holding on for dear life. Chandler glanced at his friend's face. It was strained – from holding the excess weight no doubt – and there were tears freely streaming down his cheeks. Chandler could see Joey's lips moving, but he heard nothing. Nothing but the rush of the wind.

Selfish! He can't let you die! That bastard! He has to let go! You have to fall Chandler! You have to fall!

Chandler nodded. He had to. He had to, or they would die. The wind stopped suddenly and Joey's voice hit him with a vengeance.

"-lose you! I can't! Hold on Chandler! Don't you dare do anything! I'm going to pull you up! You aren't going to die! I won't let you! Damnit Chandler!"

See? Selfish. He's so selfish. You have to die Chandler. You have to. No one, definitely not Joey, is going to stop you from that!

Chandler nodded again. He had to make Joey let go.

"Joey," he said calmly. Joey stopped screaming, and stared down at him. Chandler smiled. "Joey…let go."

"No Chandler," Joey whispered.

"Yes…let go, and turn around."

"No," Joey said again, shaking his head.

"I have to Joey. I have to!"

"No!" Joey yelled. "Goddamnit Chandler! I am not letting go! I am not letting you die! I can't lose you!"

Selfish. Always thinking about himself. You have to stop him Chandler. Have to make him let you go. This is unforgivable.

"Unforgivable," Chandler murmured.

"What?"

"Let go! I'm telling you Joey! You have to! You're killing Rachel!" Chandler yelled. Joey shook his head, tightening his hold on Chandler's arm.

"No, Chan! I'm going to pull you up! We're going to go back inside, and we're going to stop your head from bleeding. I'm going to pull you up now!" Joey said frantically. Something inside of Chandler snapped, and anger boiled over.

"Goddamnit Joey! Let go!" he shrieked. "You selfish bastard! Let me go! Let me go and turn around! I have to you idiot! I have to die, to save you guys! I have to! Let go, and turn around! You can't see this!"

"No!" Joey yelled. He tightened his hold even more and began to pull Chandler up; slowly but surely. It was hard, with Chandler fighting him ruthlessly. But adrenaline had taken over, and Joey had a burst of strength. Chandler was fighting a losing battle.

"No! You fucking idiot! Selfish! Selfish! Stop it! Let me go! Selfish!" Joey attempted to ignore Chandler's screams, but it still cut through him like a hot knife through butter. And just like a hot knife, it hurt. "Selfish! Let me go!"

"No," Joey whispered as he continued to lift, his voice strained from the effort. Chandler reached up with his free had and began to hit Joey; began to claw at his skin with his nails. Joey cried out, losing his grip.

Chandler started to fall again; started to feel freedom yet again. But then Joey had him once more. Barely.

"No!" Chandler screamed as he slammed into the wall again. The force of his body bouncing off of the wall made Joey lose his balance, and for a second, Chandler thought he was going to fall.

"No," he whispered.

If Joey falls, then you die. You get what you want.

I don't want Joey to die! I'm doing this so he lives!

But you will die if he falls…

Yes but so will he! I know you aren't fond of him-

I don't think you are at the moment either.

I'm not…

Then why don't you want him dead?

Anything…anything other then death. Joey can't die…I won't allow it.

What are you going to do?

"Just let me go!" Chandler screamed up at his friend. Joey shook his head, digging his heels in further to the ground. He wasn't going to fall; he couldn't. Chandler would die if he did. "Joey! Let me fall! You're going to kill yourself!"

He wants that. Selfish.

"Selfish! Let me go!"

"Chandler, either we both live, or we both die!" Joey yelled defiantly, gripping Chandler's arm. "Now stay still! I'm going to pull you up!"

"Fuck you Joey! Fuck you!" Chandler shrieked, tears running down his face. He didn't know what to do…didn't know.

You want to die, don't you?

Yes! But not with Joey! He has to live! He has to!

Then you have to make him let go.

He won't. He's-

Selfish?

And stubborn. He won't let me go, he won't!

Selfish bastard! Selfish! He only want's you to live so he can be happy, so he won't feel any pain. I hate him…we hate him!

I don't hate Joey; I can't! He's my-

Best friend? Soul mate? Chandler, does any of that really matter? You told him; you warned him that if he tried to stop you again…it would be unforgivable.

I didn't tell him that, I only said it in my head.

Bullshit! You told him!

No, I-

Chandler, you have to believe me! I haven't wronged you yet, have I?

No…

You told Joey…you can't forgive him.

I can't forgive him.

Good…now you need to make a choice. While we have been chatting away, Joey has nearly pulled you up. What are you going to do? Pull him over with you? Or let him pull you up? He's selfish, remember Chandler. What he did is unforgivable.

I know…but-

But what?

Chandler glanced up at his friend. Joey, openly crying as he pulled Chandler up. There was only two ways around this. Either they both die, or they both live. No ifs, ands or buts. And as much as Chandler despised Joey at that moment, he couldn't let his friend die.

I-I…I can't…

Fine…you will have to try at a later date then…but soon. We are out of time.

Soon…okay. I got you.

But Chandler…Joey needs to be punished. It's unforgivable.

Right.

We despise him. You must punish him for what he has done.

I know.

Good.

"Just a few more seconds Chandler," Joey wheezed, taking a second to compose himself. He was seeing spots, sweat was running freely with his tears, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears. He was sure he was going to pass out at any moment, but he couldn't. He couldn't allow that. If he did, they would both die. Joey didn't care about himself; no matter how many times Chandler called him selfish, it wasn't true. All Joey cared about was saving Chandler. He couldn't let his best friend die; not here, not now. If that made him selfish, then so be it. "We're nearly there." Joey smiled reassuringly down at his friend, who was glaring back at him. He was not happy. But Joey didn't care. He would take whatever abuse Chandler had to offer. He didn't care. Chandler was not going to die. He couldn't, wouldn't, mustn't.

"Hold on Chandler," Joey whispered, resuming his pulling. Chandler glared at him still, but didn't fight him. Joey was thankful for that. They were so close. His arms were about to fall off, but they were so close. No, not so close. They were-

Joey wrapped his arms around Chandler's body, and let himself fall back. He lay on the ground for a moment, gasping for breath. Chandler was safe. Chandler was okay. It was a wonderful feeling; so wonderful that Joey didn't even feel Chandler's body roll off of him. Everything was okay. Chandler was okay. Chandler was safe.

Joey started to sob; tears of happiness, exhaustion and shock. Chandler was okay.

He started to sit up, to check on his friend, but suddenly found himself on his back once more; fist beating him furiously.

"Why!" Chandler screamed, hitting Joey with all his might. All his anger, his frustration, his fury; all of those emotions came through in that one single word. And they were accompanied by his fists. Joey took the abuse gladly. Chandler was alive. He could beat him to a pulp, but it didn't matter. Chandler was alive.

He must be punished Chandler. Hit him harder. Yell; scream…do what it is you have to! He has to be punished!

"Why! Why couldn't you let me go! Selfish! Selfish! You bastard! You stupid, selfish bastard! Why! You fucking asshole! She's going to die now! You all are! Why! You fucking bastard! You stupid cun-"

Chandler's words were cut short and he was roughly pulled off of Joey.

"No! Leave me! He has to be punished! No!"

"Chandler!" Rachel yelled. Chandler stopped struggling and stared at Rachel; stared at the woman he loved. It had taken both Rachel and Monica to pull Chandler off of Joey and it had been a struggle. Joey slowly sat up, wiping the blood from his nose. He wasn't quite a pulp, but it was still pretty bad. Not that it mattered. Chandler was alive.

"No," Chandler whimpered. "I had to…I had to go…this isn't right. You're going to…"

She's going to die now Chandler.

"No…I was supposed to leave so you wouldn't have to…I was…I was sup…selfish…why can't I go? Selfi-" Chandler went limp, his eyelids fluttering shut.

Sleep now Chandler. You have a busy time coming up. You have to die. One way or another, you are going to die. Sleep now. We will deal with everything later. We will deal with Joey later. Selfish.

"Selfish," Chandler murmured.

And then he was gone.