Chapter 7
A/.N: Just to cover my butt for any weirdness and/or inconsistencies last chapter, I'd like to mention that I wrote the last two scenes of Chapter 6 between 11 pm and 3 am one night. I believe I posted the chapter sometime around 3:15 in the morning, so sorry if it seemed a little…off.
"Chandler was kidnapped? By a super villain?" Ross exclaimed.
Phoebe, Rachel, and Ross had rushed to the apartment after Joey called them in a panic. Now they were seated around the living room, trying to believe the unbelievable. Recovering from her faint on the couch, Monica managed a weak nod. "Volcano, he left a message. Hear it for yourself."
Sitting closest to the answering machine, Joey pressed play. All were deathly silent as the message played.
"Oh my God!" Rachel wailed. "Mon, you have to call the police!"
"And have Chandler shot before they even get there? Volcano has contacts; it'd be easy for him to tell if we called the cops," Monica snapped. 'Besides, I doubt the cops would be able to deal with fire-throwing henchmen."
Putting a reassuring hand on Monica's shoulder, Phoebe almost whispered, "Um, when he said to choose between your powers and your husband…?"
"Chandler, duh!" Monica spat.
Removing her hand as if it were on fire, Phoebe assured her, "Okay, just checking."
"What are you going to do?" Rachel asked quietly after a minute.
Joey picked up a nearby Zoom comic book. When Monica shook her head in protest, Joey insisted, "You have to. This is Chandler we're talking about. I don't care about whatever stupid fight you and the team are having. They're the only ones who can handle this."
The others stared at him, startled by his demanding tone. Ross agreed, "He's right. Mon, you can't do this by yourself. Calling them wouldn't mean that you'd be begging to be taken back…you'd be asking for help. They'd have to listen. Someone's in trouble, and their superheroes."
"Yeah, like you know when some people have a 'superhero complex'?" Phoebe added, using air quotes. "That's where that's from!"
Monica wasn't about to give in so easily. "Come on, how hard can it be? I'll just get on my super suit, go down there and kick some ass. I'll be fine."
"Okay, can you stop being crazy and start being realistic?" Ross retorted.
Rachel put in, "Think about it, sweetie. You're going into a super villain's headquarters, all by yourself. Even with your powers, it'll be hard to fight off that many henchmen. Remember, they have powers, too." After that speech, she paused in disbelief. "I just used the words super villain, powers, and henchmen in the same two sentences. What's wrong with this picture?"
"But…what if they won't help me?" Monica finally asked. "I mean, I'm not exactly their most favorite person."
Putting his arm around her shoulders, Joey answered, "They have to help you, whether they want to or not, 'cause it's what they do!"
"You really think so?" Monica replied.
Ross grabbed the phone receiver. "Only one way to find out."
"But what if…oh, all right," Monica snatched the phone, then raised an eyebrow in surprise when it rang. She answered it. "Hello?" She rolled her eyes. "Sorry, there's a family emergency. I won't be coming back to work today, or tomorrow, for that matter."
"You're on your lunch break?" Phoebe asked.
Monica gave her a "that should've been obvious" look, then resolutely dialed the number of the Center. She listened past the machine-recorded voice, then groaned when it asked her to leave a message. "Hi, it's…Monica. Don't worry, I'm not asking to be let back in, it's just –" She stared at the receiver, stunned, when she got the dial tone. "Those bastards hung up on me!"
"Can any of them read minds?" When everyone shot Joey curious glances, he shrugged. "Well, chances are that if she's calling them bastards in her head, they're not gonna want to talk to her."
"No, Joey, no members of the team can read minds…at least, as far as I know…" Monica answered.
Rachel pointed to the receiver. "Come on, Mon, keep trying. This is Chandler we're talking about!"
"Okay." Letting out a deep breath, Monica dialed, this time deciding she might have better luck if she went straight to Jack's private line. She got the machine again. "Hi, Jack? It's Monica. I know we haven't spoken since…that night, but…I really need your help. Not as a superhero – as a civilian. Volcano, he…kidnapped Chandler, and –"
"Monica?" Jack had picked up the phone.
Monica sighed with relief. "Jack! You have to help! Volcano called, and, well, listen to this." She indicated for Joey to play the message, and Monica heard it for the third time. She waited a beat, then asked, "So…"
"We'll get right on it," Jack replied. "You stay home, and whatever you do, don't get in that limo tonight. We'll call you when we've rescued your fiancé."
Monica couldn't respond for a second, too stunned to speak. "That's…that's it? Stay home and wait for you to call, that's your big advice? You honestly can't expect me to just sit here!"
"You don't have any choice. There's no way in hell you're coming with us, and I'll be damned if you're going on your own," Jack replied, becoming angry at her exclamation.
Admitting that there was nothing else she could say, Monica gave a small huff of indignation. A quick look at her friends' distraught expressions revealed that they didn't have an alternative plan either. Finally, she cleared her throat, and with as much dignity she could muster replied, "Fine."
And then she reached over Joey's lap and slammed down the receiver.
With a good amount of effort, Chandler managed to lift his head off the cold floor. And instantly regretted it. "Ouch!"
"Ah, look who's up."
Chandler blinked a few times, trying to get a sense of his surroundings. He…he was in a cage. No, wait, it was a jail cell. His panic rising as he came to further awareness, he found himself prostrate on the cement. Confused, he put a hand to his aching temple. Last thing he remembered was….wait, he was arriving at his office…he opened his door…the door shut behind him, and he recalled being shocked because he hadn't closed it.
Oh God. He had been kidnapped.
How humiliating.
"W-hat the hell? Where am I?" Chandler demanded, wincing at the loud tone he had used.
A figure stepped into his limited line of vision. It was a man, about his age. His dark eyes that made Chandler want to shudder, and was pretty tall, probably a little over six feet. He had a typical lean build, and was wearing a black suit and tie.
What intimidated Chandler most, though, was his hair. He couldn't even find the right words to describe it. The cut was short, but the color…it was black, but it was like somebody applied a sheer coat of crimson spray paint.
Well, the guy was obviously nuts. Maybe he did have his hair dresser spray it.
His hands in his slacks pockets, the man, approached the cell door. "Hello, Chandler. Do you know who I am?"
"Evil incarnate?" Chandler guessed. The guy honestly looked familiar, but he couldn't place him. At his glare, Chandler shrugged. "What? Ask a stupid question…"
Chandler could tell the man was struggling to control his temper as he warned, "Considering you're trapped in a jail cell, I'd go easy on the sarcasm if I were you."
"Can't promise that. I try to think about what I say before I say it, but sometimes I'm not fast enough," Chandler deadpanned.
His captor gave a frustrated grunt. "Perhaps I should've ensured you remained unconscious."
"Yeah, that probably would have been better for the both of us," Chandler agreed. "By the way…who are you?"
The man gave a small, superior grin. "I'm positive your fiancé's mentioned me. I tend to go by the name Volcano."
"Oh…oh my God," Chandler moaned, laying his head back down. I am so screwed. For some reason it hasn't occurred to him that Volcano could look just like a regular person rather than the mustache- twirling evil doer. Maybe they ran out of long black capes at the super villain store.
Chuckling, Volcano asked, "I take it you've heard of me?"
"It was kind of hard not to," Chandler retorted. Forcing himself to get up, he could only manage to sit against the back wall with his shoulders slumped. "Um, just out of curiosity…why go through all the trouble to kidnap me?"
Volcano raised an eyebrow. "Please tell me you're not that stupid."
"Eh," Chandler shrugged.
"Take a moment to put two and two together," Volcano suggested. "I am a thief, a 'super villain' as many choose to call me. Your fiancé, Monica Geller, is a superhero. Anything clicking yet?"
Oh God. Chandler felt his breath quicken, his palms getting sweaty. He knows that Monica is Hurricane. And he's using me as bait. Chandler has to ask, "How did you find out?"
"It was purely a coincidence." Volcano then went on to explain how he had used the security cameras, and then the message he had left on her machine.
Chandler would have kicked himself if he was flexible enough. I shouldn't have convinced her to come that day. If she had stayed home like she was supposed to, I wouldn't be here. He desperately hoped that she would not get in the limo tonight, but who was he kidding? Monica was Monica, and she wouldn't let him get killed without a fight. "You son of a bitch…" Chandler seethed.
"Watch that language," Volcano chided, then, to his captive's shock, formed a lava ball in his hand and fired it at the side wall. "Unless you want to be reminded why the media nicknamed me Volcano."
Closing his eyes to help quell the fear rising in his chest, Chandler let out a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, Volcano was on his way out. "Wait!" Chandler shouted. "You're just gonna…leave me here?"
"Yes, but I've provided entertainment," Volcano answered, pointing to the wall behind Chandler before leaving.
Wrinkling his brow in confusion, Chandler slowly got to his knees and turned around. His jaw dropped in horror.
There was a medium-sized window in the center of the wall. He could see Volcano's center of operations, a room with the dimensions of a warehouse. Workers were bringing in dozens of cases full of money, and other boxes held what Chandler guessed to be more stolen loot.
What had terrified him was the machine standing a few feet in front of the window. It was a laser beam, not humongous but big enough to be intimidating. About a yard opposite it was a vertical, tiled metal table equipped with arm and leg straps.
Chandler had no problem figuring out who that table was for.
"Why isn't it here yet?" Monica wondered aloud, checking her watch.
Ross glanced at his own watch and sighed. "Mon, it's only 11:30."
"But what if he's late? What if Volcano assumes I didn't get in the limo and…" Monica trailed off, gulping back tears.
Putting an arm around her best friend, Rachel consoled, "Honey, worrying yourself into a panic isn't going to help. You need to focus on calming down and thinking about how to save Chandler."
"If you want, I can show you some meditating exercises," Phoebe offered. She was sitting on the stoop with Joey, watching as the rest of their friends paced the sidewalk in nervous anxiety. As Ross had announced, it was a half hour until midnight, and none of them had even thought about going to sleep. Since getting the message, they all spent the day comforting Monica and agonizing over Chandler.
They had also been waiting on pins and needles for the superhero team to call them, hopefully with good news. But the day went by, and the phone didn't ring once. Monica had grabbed the receiver numerous times to make sure there was a dial tone. She eventually came to the conclusion that either something had happened to the team, or they didn't find Chandler yet.
Either way, she was getting in that limo, and none of her friends stood a chance at dissuading her.
"No thanks," Monica replied, turning on her heel once again and walking the other way. "I don't think anything can relax me at this point."
"I know, but if you don't stop stalking around like that, a cop might think you're a hooker," Phoebe pointed out.
Wanting to wear her super suit to the would-be fight, Monica put a large trench coat over it so that she wouldn't risk her identity while she waited outside. Though, she had to admit that Phoebe was right. "Okay, I'll sit down. Move over."
"Hey! Ow…" Joey groaned as Phoebe slid to her left, knocking him to the sidewalk.
Joey's whining barely registering in her mind, Monica put her head in her hands. "I can't believe I got Chandler into this! He must be so mad at me!"
"This is Chandler," Joey argued. "Knowing him, he's worrying about what Volcano's gonna do to you after you get in that limo tonight."
Monica hadn't even thought of that. "Oh God, you're right. Thanks Joe, you just multiplied my guilt times about a million."
"Monica, honey," Rachel went over and gave her a reassuring hug. "It's not your fault, okay? Every superhero has to face this problem sooner or later. You'll get Chandler back."
"But then what? Wait until the next time some evil nutcase wants revenge?" Monica spat.
Ross had enough. "Monica, snap out of it! This isn't you! Quit thinking about failing and start thinking about kicking some evil ass!"
The group fell into an awkward silence until they all heard the screech of tires around the corner. "That's him. It's midnight!" Monica exclaimed, jumping to her feet. Glancing around the corner, she confirmed her suspicions when she saw the limo approaching. "The four of you, get inside now!"
"Good luck, sweetie," Rachel gave her a fierce hug, as did the others.
Ross was the last to say good-bye. "Remember, sis – kick some ass."
The four watched from the building foyer, not daring to breathe as the limo pulled up and Monica got in. Once it had gotten a few feet down the block, Ross grabbed Rachel's hand and indicated that everyone follow him into the cab that had been sitting in front of the stoop all night.
"Ross, what the hell?" Rachel gasped, almost falling into the backseat with him.
Shotgun, Joey glanced at them and asked, "Yeah, dude, what's going on?"
"Monica's gonna need backup, isn't she?" Ross answered, then said something to the waiting driver that he'd always wanted to say. "Follow that limo!"